


Demon

by Amiradel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Drama, F/M, Fantastic, Minor Character Death, Mystical Creatures, Out of Character, Religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29615523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amiradel/pseuds/Amiradel
Summary: Everyone knows that demons are deadly creatures, eager to cause people suffering and pain. And meeting with one of them can bring nothing good. Or not?
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 19
Kudos: 45





	1. Demon

**Author's Note:**

> This is total AU, taking plaсe in the in my own world, which hardly has anything in common with Westeros, except for heroes and the historical period

“And for two days now some devilry has been going on in the house. The witch lives there, master inquisitor. I speak the truth.” The headman of a village of two dozen houses exhaled noisily, dabbed his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

“So why you haven’t the informed Cathedral about the witch?” Jon didn't like the headman. The shifty eyes and the ingratiating tone reminded of the thieving traders who constantly tried to cheat him in childhood. He was also sweating profusely, although the autumn day was cold.

“So we are, master Inquisitor ... We thought, but...” Everything with them was clear, although even before these words everything was clear. In such a wilderness, not only to the Inquisition, to the nearest church you have to ride for three days. And there were only five horses in the village, and even those for plowing. So, the peasants putted up with the witch, who, of course, was a dangerous and dark creature, but she could also help with treatment, drive away pests from the fields, and calm down the evil spirits that have crawled out from a neighboring swamp or from a ravine will. It happened so often. The peasants even hid their witches from the passing inquisitors. Until the witch became crazy from the dark force and began to harm. Then they ran to bow to the Inquisition, wept, mumbled absurdities, averted their eyes and were terribly afraid. Just like here. “Um, so can you help us?”

“I will help.” Jon winced, touched the head of the white wolf on the top of the sword. An uncle's gift, a confession that the nephew still meant something to him. It would be better if he had told anything about his father, Jon could afford the sword himself. “What devilry is going on in the house?”

“Um ...” The headman again hesitated, looked askance at the squat house, almost at the very edge of the forest. “At first, something sparkled and thumped, but now, as night falls, it is howling, and so loud that the soul freezes.”

“Howling. “Anything could howl, from a werewolf to some undead. Although the anticipatory light show rather spoke of a failed spell, so the undead suited better. And if so, then the peasants were very lucky that he passed through their village. A few more days, and the starving creature, tired of howling in a locked house, would break down the door and go to feed in the village. “Didn't your witch use any forbidden spells? Necromancy, demons summoning?”

“What are you spiking about, master inquisitor. Nothing for... I mean, how do we know, we are simple people, but we have not noticed anything like that.”

The temptation to ask what non-forbidden spells the local witch used was great, but Jon overcame it. He did not come here to fight with stupid peasants. It was better to focus on the creature that lived in the witch’s former house, until it will eat the whole village. And sooner he finishes, the better. It was getting dark outside, but that was not too important. The fact that evil spirits become stronger with the onset of the night was a prejudice generated by darkness, in which it was easier to hide. And the undead may not like the light, but they were not afraid of it either. The chance that during the day one of them will jump out of the closet or from under the bed, where it was hiding from the light, only increased.

“Good, so there shouldn't be any problems.” Jon once again touched the sword, making sure that it easily walked in the scabbard, then turned to the strange house, but after taking a first step froze and turned back to the headman. “And if someone in my absence even touches a horse or things with a finger, he will be living without hands.”

The headman hurriedly nodded, rubbing his forehead with his sleeve again. In the city, and even in a larger village, there would be no need for such a warning. There no one would even dream of robbing an inquisitor. But in remote villages like this, they hardly believe in Creator's punishment, the real threat was much clearer to them.

Nearby, the witch's house was not as mysterious as it looked from the village. A one-story blockhouse made of logs darkened by time, small windows covered with a cloudy film of bull bubbles, a roof covered with thatched ... and a vague feeling of something otherworldly, not from this reality. Simple magic won't do that. Something was wrong.

The door gave way easily, as if was waiting for him. There was a lock, but it was not locked. So, it was not the undead, through the open door it would have got out immediately, and the shutters on the windows were not locked also. So, was it really a werewolf? But where would it come from; the peasants would have noticed it. Although the house is on the outskirts, at night the creature might not have been noticed, and the light that was seen in the windows could be the reflections of battle spells. Werewolf could hide, it is smart enough for that. But why then it howled at night, attracting attention?

The door slammed shut behind his back as soon as he crossed the threshold and was followed by shutters on the windows. A moment and the house plunged into absolute darkness and silence. Or not absolute?

A velvet rustle on the right, a barely audible creak of a floorboard, a soft sound of impact, as if a chip had fallen to the floor. “So, so.” – A voice. Soft, enveloping, sounding as if from everywhere at the same time. Nothing to be afraid, but Jon would rather hear an angry werewolf howl or the groans and wheezes of the undead. Only one creature could speak this way - a demon. “The inquisitor on the hunt. So romantic. And what a beautiful rack.” You can't tell where she is from her voice, but the footsteps were clearly audible. She didn't even try to muffle them. Quiet measured clicks. Was it from hoofs? Jon turned his head towards the sound, but only managed to notice a silhouette, and even that out of the corner of his eye. He, like all inquisitors, saw quite well in the dark, sometimes it was impossible to survive without it, but the demon saw everything better. “And whom are you hunting?”

Jon didn't answer. He straightened up, held the sword in front of him, whispered a short prayer. The tip of the sword, and behind it the outlined hemisphere, flashed white for a moment, an indignant hiss was heard from the left.

“That’s not fair, inquisitor. Now the voice sounded offended. I could’ve killed you if I wanted to, but I didn't even come close. And you are throwing prayers, putting up protection.”

“I stopped the following tricks.” For the inquisitors, talking with demons was not just undesirable, it was strictly forbidden, but Jon never understood the meaning of this prohibition. What can happen from a conversation? Will the demon seduce him, and after a little check with protection, Jon was sure that he was "lucky" to face a succubus, or would she convince him to renounce the Cathedral and change sides? So, nothing prevented the demon from speaking, even if Jon does not say a word to her. And the credibility will not suffer. Rather now, when the demon cannot approach him because of the shield, it will only grow.

“What tricks?” She still sounded offended. He came across some extremely emotional demon. Is she still quite young? Some girl of about fifty, who had been among people only a couple of times, and had seen the inquisitor for the first time. “If you are talking about windows, then you are mistaken. I haven’t done it.”

And here she, perhaps, was not lying. It was easier for the demon to wait until he went deeper into the house and attack from behind. Wat sense makes the trap, that betrays your presence? And the demon howling at night was something beyond reality. They were too smart, sometimes even smarter than people. Jon turned his head slightly, looked at the door. A net of dark magic crawled along its loops. The shutters must look the same. It turned out that the witch was still alive and all this was her job. But where was she? During their conversation with the demon, it was possible to get out for many times. Or hide deeper.

Jon lowered the sword, which his hands themselves at the sound of the voice snatched from its scabbard, and moved along the wall. There must have been traces of what happened here. Maybe even the pentagram through which the demon was summoned.

“Looking closely at the walls, you look extremely charming.” The demon's voice sounded again measured and enveloping. “Especially for a person, who did not notice the trap created by dark magic.”

“Trap of questionable effectiveness.” Jon paid no more attention to the demon. She will not be able to harm, which means it is better to focus on the house. There could well have been more traps. If only he knew who they were placed on. “A door won't stand even one blow by prayer.”

“I couldn’t disagree.” An invisible interlocutor almost purred. “But you people understand little about traps.”

Compared to demons, perhaps. Jon agreed mentally, but did not answer. The herbs hanging along the wall interested him. A raven eye, a blue bell, a pair of lionfish twigs, which was also called demon grass. This was often used because it was believed to give protection against demons. It rarely helped and only against the weakest, but the superstition was stable. And here it gave only more proof that the witch practiced summoning, and the demon did not appear here by chance.

“What beautiful herbs.” The voice sounded very close, over the shoulder, at the distance of a palm slipped someone else's hand. Jon immediately slammed his sword in that direction, but did not even touch the demon. Merry laughter echoed through the dark house. “Very well, but you need to be better to hurt me.”

Jon didn’t answer again, just clenched his teeth and went back to exploring the room. The demon was playing. She couldn’t touch him or do any harm and tried to infuriate him. Wants him to try to catch her. Only in a dark house it was useless. Rather, he will break his neck, stumbling over something, than catch a nimble demon. He will deal with her later, when he finds the witch and understands what was happening.

“You should look more attentively under your feet, inquisitor, there is some hatch. You can break yourself something.” He lowered his eyes just in time to notice the heavy iron ring. These were placed on hatches to the underground, and in the underground, they often hide something interesting. “Is it a heavy hatch?” Either he’s going crazy or there was something like sympathy in the demon’s voice. Most likely the first, but Jon was quite sure of the strength of his mind. “What's your name, inquisitor?”

The ring slipped out of his hands, the cover collapsed with a crash to the floor, fortunately on the other side of the hatch. “I wouldn’t’ tell you this.” A short prayer and the floor under the hatch lit up for a moment. It seemed that there were no traps and it was not too high for a jump. The stairs were not visible.

“And what is your problem, do you believe that a demon can send a curse through the name?” She snorted softly again. Now some succubus will laugh at him, as if he is some kind of superstitious peasant.

“No, enchant. And I don't believe, I know.”

“Enchant.” She seemed to choke, giggled, but what made her laugh? “Fine, fine. Let it be.” The demon quieted down, and Jon already prepared to jump, but did not have time. “Inquisitor, are you an honest man?”

“Yes.” He responded, studying the floor, and immediately realizing that he was caught. He did not know how yet, but the demon had already achieved his goal. Here was the answer why it was forbidden to talk to them. If he survives this day, he will never again question this rule.

“It's great. There are so few honest people.” The demon's voice became very penetrating. “It's a pity they are all so indecisive, the poor girl has to introduce herself first.” A pause in which the demon's pleasure was almost heard. “I'm Dany.”

So sly. Jon had already given up the idea that she was young. They could be smart, but they have problems with cunning. And this one figured it all out so quickly. Now he will have to answer. It should be this way. Even with a demon. And the name she said was probably short one. You can break your tongue trying to repeat one of theirs full ones. He could answer her in the same way, but Jon couldn’t shorten his already short name. “Jon.” He sheathed his sword and, before she could say something else, jumped down.

It was even darker in the underground. At a distance of one, two steps, he could still see, beyond was darkness. It was good that he could orientate not only by sight. The ability to somehow especially feel space should have come from his mother. Sorceresses, one of those who were allowed to practice magic under strict supervision. If Jon grew up with her, he would hardly have ended up in the Inquisition. But she died when he was not even two years old, and uncle Eddard who raised him was principled, correct and religious. Jon had little choice, either the Inquisition or monasticism. The inquisitors, at least, were not forced to sit in the same monastery all the time.

“There is a tunnel behind the shelf you are looking at.” He did not expect to hear her voice. She had to stay at the top, could slam the hatch cover. He was ready for this. For the fact that she will jump down after him into a small underground, where even a demon cannot hide, if he tried to kill her, no.

“What do you need?” He guessed about the tunnel, felt emptiness where the wall should have been, but did not yet understand how to open it. The witch did not knock out this shelf every time with magic. This meant that he also can do without prayer.

“Nothing, just curious. Move the can of onions and pull on the right side of the shelf.”

“Just curious is the reason to help me, instead of interfering?” He read a short prayer before touching the indicated can. But there were no spells or any poison on it. Something clicked in the wall, and the shelf gave way easily.

“Why should I interfere?” The corridor was low and narrow. You could not turn around, nor could you stand up in full growth. An unpleasant place. Not too dangerous though. The witch will not dare to arrange a magic duel here, the spells which supports the ceiling can crumble, and it is unlikely that it will be possible to dig out of here. And he will intercept the hand with the dagger. “Your presence did not contradict my plans.” Another breath touched his neck, and Jon involuntarily flinched. She couldn't hurt him, even touch him, but her presence so close ... It was incredibly wrong. Blood was pounding in his temples; his head was spinning. Was it because of the narrow passage or because of the succubus charm aura? He heard from the elders about it. A nasty thing that has nothing to do with normal feelings.

The corridor widened unexpectedly, just after a bend, from behind which soft light oozed. The round room was still small, but here two people could have missed each other, and Jon was finally able to straighten up. A torch was fixed on one of the walls, near a massive wooden door.

“It’s been attached for a long time, already almost burned out.” His companion again noted. Now he could turn around and look at her, even such a fast demon would not be able to hide in a tiny illuminated room. But Jon chose to focus on the door. He no longer felt the presence of the demon nearby, and it was all right.

There were simple locking spells on the door, but that was no problem. Jon didn’t even have to read a prayer, he just moved his hand, breaking the threads of spells. That's all, the door is open, you can go in and check what kind of which was in this village. And did she know anything except how to hide.

“Jon, are you sure you need to go there?” His name in the voice of a demon, unpleasantly scratched the ear. When she called him inquisitor it was better. Almost everyone called him that way. Jon - only close ones and good acquaintances.

“I'm sure.” He put his hand on the door handle, too good for the place. Obviously not a local blacksmith's craft. Why the witch needed this?

“Well, if you say so.” And in the next moment his hand was thrown back. Jon did not have time to react, she was even faster than he thought. And he was finally able to see her, frozen less than a step away from him. A chiseled, impeccably beautiful face framed by waves of silvery hair, calm and cold amethyst eyes, and no hint of hooves, tail or horns. But behind the back were two snow-white leathery wings. She was not a succubus. One of the demon princes stood before him. One of those against which the inquisitors went no less than five men and with the support of a dozen soldiers of the church. Someone whom the protection, he put, would not have stopped even for a moment. “See you soon.” She lifted the corner of her flawlessly contoured lips into a smile, pressed the door handle and stepped back into it.

Something gave a long howl, flashed with a bright radiance, blinding Jon for several agonizing moments. But when the iridescent circles stopped floating in front of his eyes, he was still alive, and the demon was nowhere to be found. Outside the door was a spacious, round room, trimmed with dark stone, and in the middle of it someone was lying.

Perhaps it was the witch. Jon came closer, turned over the woman lying on her stomach. She was not young, but not quite old either. Must be quite attractive sometime. The brown hair was still smooth and the skin was free of wrinkles. Perhaps he would even call her a beauty if he met her before he saw the demon, Dany. Trickles of blood flowed from the witch's nose, mouth and even eyes. An eerie sight, but he had seen this before. She was hit by her own strength. And he seemed to know what was flashing here.

The drawing on the floor near the doors turned out to be an open pentagram. As soon as the victim crossed the border, it would be in the safest cage. Here was the rune of darkness, blood, back shield, and next to it is an inverted symbol of the Inquisition. Rune blocking the gift. Prayers will become just words, losing all the power put into them. He seemed to know for whom this cage was being prepared. Only one rune, the most important, was missing. Where the rune of power should have been, only a half-erased chalk outline stayed. Demon. Dany. She knew about the trap, deliberately ran her foot across the floor to damage the drawing. He had no protection against her, she could kill him dozens of times, stun him, do whatever she wanted. But she not only did not take advantage of his carelessness, but also helped. What for?

Jon sat down beside the pentagram, carefully examined the floor. Clean. No traces of ash that should have been left from those who dared to erase the rune of power. However, he did not expect anything else. Demon princes are tenacious. You can't take them by the power of one mediocre witch. She just returned to her plan. Hardly for long. Senior inquisitors once told him that a demon who showed interest in a person not related to murder or sacrifice would definitely return. This meant that he and Dany will meet again. And now he has one more thing to do. Jon remembered the shifting eyes of the headman, how out of breath he was at the beginning of the conversation, as if he was running from somewhere, how he was sweating, how he stuttered. Did he give up the inquisitor to the witch, or they were in collusion at all, intending to divide the acquired in half, the life of the inquisitor to the witch, the things to the headman, it did not matter. The act of the headman in any case was a crime against the Cathedral. Jon stood up abruptly, feeling his lips stretch in a predatory grin. It was unlikely that the locals saw other representatives of the Cathedral, except for the priest of the nearest church. A sweet old man who professed forgiveness. Well, it seemed the time has come to explain to them why it was customary to respect and fear inquisitors.


	2. Demon's waltz

The gates of Winterfell were wide open, and curious children from the neighboring village were circling around them. However, Jon had no problems with passing through. Noticing a man in the mantle of an inquisitor, children fled from the road and stopped a few steps away, looking with curious eyes. Here, in just a week's journey from the unofficial capital of the Cathedral, this was normal. Although Jon managed to get out of this attitude. For two moons of work in the outlying lands, he had to use prayer five times against the peasants, who thought that they could slightly lighten the bags of the inquisitor, disperse a gang of robbers who decided that a lone traveler was an easy prey and what difference it was how he was dressed, and three times meet with unregistered mages... One even managed to scare him, almost throwing herself on his neck when they met. It turned out that she had wanted to register for a long time, but had no time to go for almost moon to the nearest city, where the inquisitor could be. The other two were calmer. The sorcerer pretended not to notice Jon, he did him a return service. The necromancer hinted where they would find him, or rather not find him, if it seemed to her that he was plotting something. Jon promised that he would not touch her, he did not want to fight dangerously close to the not very old cemetery, and the girl's gift was bright, but he remembered the village. Although no one could overcome the village where the headman in conspiracy with the witch tried to trap Jon. Here, in the north of the kingdom, such a thing could not even appear in people’s minds.

People were bustling about in the yard. The servants were preparing for the feast and celebration. The time for lunch prayer had not yet come, the morning prayer had already been served, and the noble masters of the house undoubtedly slept off after the longest night of the year, which was supposed to be spent in prayer. Jon would also take a nap, he spent the night as it should be for a real inquisitor… reading the old, forbidden treatise on the princes of demons, which, alternately making terrible eyes for him and telling what punishments they would befall, if anything happens to it, on his word of honor, Sam gave out from the collection of rarities of the Cathedral. Jon did not see anything seditious in his behavior. The other inquisitors did not indulge in prayer on the longest night too. The most egregious case belonged to the magister personally. He liked to arrange an inspection of some brothel that night, naturally without a mantle and a sword. The warriors of the church were no better, the only one who seemed to pray all night was their High Knight Lord Stannis. Once this night was really dangerous, the inquisitors could not protect everyone, and prayer was the only thing that could guarantee that people would see the morning. But forty years ago, the Inquisition abandoned centenary principles, entered into an agreement with the mages and, in just a few years, everything calmed down. Even on the border it became calmer, a simple consecrated palisade provided sufficient protection, and in the central regions night prayer remained only a gift of tradition. As well as the subsequent celebration and feast.

“And what does it mean if it was prohibited? I can get back before my father wakes up.” A familiar voice sounded very close to the stable, as soon as Jon brought horse there. “When you talk like this, you remind me of Sansa. One sister was enough for me.” And she has not changed at all during the year that they did not see each other, she still loved breaking the rules.

“You won't be back before lunchtime prayer, Arya. And your father will definitely notice it.” He turned around just as she entered the stable. Her friend, the son of a butcher, kept behind her, probably already imagining the consequences of Arya's escape.

“Jon!” She froze for a moment on the threshold, and then with an enthusiastic cry rushed to him, enfold hands around his neck. “You are late, I was waiting you for the night prayer.”

“I'm sorry, Arya.” With a laugh, he unhooked his cousin's hands from himself, pushed her aside to get a better look. She has grown, become taller and more beautiful. Her future husband will have something to admire. And what to suffer from. In character, as well as in appearance, Arya went to her aunt, his mother. And Lyanna, they said, in childhood did not dismount from a horse and did not part with a sword. “I was detained by unforeseen circumstances. One very nimble werewolf tried to convince me that the peasants did not even mind being eaten. I had to stay a little longer.” It's also good that the mages who prepared teleports by order of the Inquisition have long been putting in them a day or two of delay. Otherwise, it would take two or three moons to get home by horse.

“And what about the peasants?” She mischievously flashed her eyes, again tried to grab his neck, but Jon caught her hands.

“Peasants did not share the opinion of the werewolf and were very happy to see his head.” Jon grinned at his cousin and ruffled her hair. As a child, he often did this, but now they rarely saw each other, and very soon meetings would become even rarer. Arya was fourteen. In two years, she will be married and he will have to choose which castle to visit. It will be just like with Sansa, whom he hasn’t seen in three years.

“Werewolf.” Arya said it almost dreamily. What's wrong with her? “What fantastic life you have. So many adventures.”

“But because of these adventures I was late for home.” Jon grinned. Everyone at Arya's age dreamed of adventures. He just hoped that cousin wouldn’t rush to fulfill her dreams. “You were all together, and I had to pray alone.”

“And how it was?” She knew him too well to believe.

“Quite nice.” Jon pulled the book Sam had given out from the saddlebag and demonstrated it, but did not give it to Arya. Some problems, if something happened to it, could really be.

“I thought so.” Arya grimaced, but did not have time to say anything else, another woman appeared at the entrance.

“Arya, you are here again. Prayer is coming soon, and we can't find you anywhere. And what an appearance, change your cloths immediately.”

"Mother ..." Arya instantly jumped up, but Lady Catelyn was no longer paying attention to her. She spotted Jon.

“Jon, you came. And Ned and I weren't expecting you.” Auntie so charmingly threw up her hands and spoke so joyfully that he was tempted to smile back. Jon didn't resist and gave her pleasure. Let her think that her things worked on him. Although what the lady inherited from her grandmother was not even considered a magic gift, and if Jon wanted it, he could simply ignore. But for what? Only to upset the aunt, and she did not deserve it too much.

“I wrote to uncle that I was delayed by business.” Jon hid the book, his aunt does not need to know about it, and left the stable. Arya walked dejectedly after. “I really wish I came in time for evening prayer. How did you manage to go throw it?”

“I had to report that Rickon was ill and would not be able to attend prayer.” Aunt exhaustedly rubbed her eyes with her palms. It seems like the longest night of the year seemed even longer to her this time. "Jon, is there really nothing you can do about this?"

“I'm sorry, aunt, but I can't help you.” Jon was really sorry. When he was a child, his relationship with his aunt did not go well. The bastard of her husband's sister annoyed Lady Catelyn, throwing a stain on the impeccable reputation of the family. She fully supported uncle in his desire to send Jon to the monastery, but the Inquisition suited her, perhaps even more. Now Jon could be called a member of the family without damaging its reputation, so aunt willingly changed her attitude and even seemed to be a little proud of her nephew. If only things with uncle had been so simple. “Only a magician can do something here. If you could convince uncle to trust, I would pick the most reliable of those with whom the Cathedral cooperates.”

“You know your uncle, Jon.” She sighed heavily, fleetingly touched the corner of her eye with her hand. “No man in the world can convince him of this.

“Uncle Benjen could.” Words drowned in silence. Uncle Benjen suggested making Jon an inquisitor when he heard the power of his nephew's voice during prayer five years ago. He died almost four years ago. Knight of the church, he accompanied the inquisitor with several brothers. It would seem a simple matter to check an old burial ground that has long died down. Nobody came back. Two months later, their amulets were returned to the Cathedral. All that remained of fore armed, experienced fighters. Who killed them, they never found out. The one who returned the amulets was only an ordinary messenger, but it was not possible to find the sender.

They remained silent until the moment Lady Catelyn opened the door of her youngest son's room. Little Rickon was playing something intently on the floor, but instantly turned his head at the sound of the opening door and immediately found himself on his feet.

“Jon! You came!” Child's hands with inhuman strength clenched around his neck. Jon barely had time to grab the baby by the belt, not allowing him to hang on himself. Rickon was already heavy. “And I've been waiting for you!”

“Well, I promised to come.” To unhook the youngest was already almost an impossible task. Every time Rickon threw himself at Jon like this, Jon could not shake the feeling that one day the cousin's arms would close not in an embrace, but around his throat, to strangle, break his neck, kill the inquisitor. And he will know and will not be able to do anything. After all, it will be Rickon. “And what so interesting are you playing? Knights?”

“Let Bran play knights.” With childish affectionate seriousness the boy snorted. “This is an inquisitor and he is fighting a terrible monster.”

“A monster.” The heart skipped a beat. “And who wins?”

“The Inquisitor, of course. He's just like you. You defeated the monster.”

“And not only one.” It sounded hard. Three years ago, Jon not only defeated a werewolf who somehow wandered into these lands, prayer scattered the creature across half the forest, and he himself laid unconscious for almost a day. But he was ready to put even more strength into prayer, to perish, if only this could change something. Return lost moment, permanently erase the mark of the wrong wolf teeth from the little cousin's thigh.”

“I'll win too. When I grow up and become like you.” Rickon proudly put his hands on his hips, smiled at his mother who was frozen in the doorway. His fangs were already noticeable. Another year, and there will be talks and rumors about the retreat of the Starks' youngest son. If he was the only one, it would be okay, but after Bran there will certainly be conversations.

“Definitely.” Jon smiled with some effort and turned to Lady Catelyn. “Go, aunt, you will be late for prayer.”

“Thanks, Jon. She brushed away the tear again, almost openly. What would we do without you?”

“You could do it. Even without me.” He smiled again, closed the door, turned to Rickon, who was looking at him with undisguised interest. “Will you show me how the battle goes?”

“Will you show me a prayer? “Cousin didn't let himself be distracted. “Please, just a weak one.”

“You know that I can't just use prayers. As you can see, I don't even pray with the others. Or do you want me to be stripped of my voice for breaking the rules?” Jon playfully tugged the kid by the lock of red hair. He hated lying. Even out of necessity. But how to explain to Rickon that any prayer for someone like him will be like a red-hot iron? How to tell a child that he will never live a normal human life?

“I do not want.” The kid sighed heavily and settled back on the carpet. “Can you play as a monster this time? Just one time.”

***

The battle between good and evil was in full swing when the door swung open to the full. “I see you are having fun, cousin.” A joyful voice made Jon involuntarily smile and lower the figures to the floor. “And I knelt in the church for half an hour. This was awfully boring.”

“Your father doesn't think so, Stark.” Jon got up, only to get into the arms of his oldest cousin Robb, almost the same age as himself, and hug him back. “And, in general, when I was studying, we were forced to pray for whole days. No breaks.”

“Well, I'm not an inquisitor. And in general, as if you once worried about my father's opinion.” Robb took one step back and grunted. “He wanted to see you in a monastic cassock, and not in the cloak of an inquisitor.”

“I really appreciate my uncle and I am grateful that he raised me, but in this…” Jon lifted the corner of his lips in response in a grin. “He will have to deal with it.”

“Just us I said.” Robb grunted again, clapped Jon on the shoulder. “Let's go to the village, there is also a holiday there today. There will be musicians, dancers.”

“Can I come with you?” Before Jon could reply, Rickon jumped up, grabbed Robb's arm and stared at them with pleading eyes. “Please, please.”

“You go with your mom. She said something about the fair.” Robb, with obvious difficulty, unclenched his younger brother's fingers. “Well, Jon, what about you? Or inquisitors did not go to fairs?

“Of course, they don’t. There are so many temptations. It is so easy to give in and lose righteousness.” Robb burst out laughing, he had heard about the righteousness of the inquisitors from his brother. “Silly question, of course I'll go. I'll just change mantle, otherwise the holiday will be ruined.”

“Yes, the appearance of the inquisitor with a mantle and a sword will make an indelible impression.” The cousin laughed again, waved his hand. “Go, just not for long, otherwise I won't wait and leave alone.”

Of course, Robb was joking about not waiting. Together it was always much more fun for them, even in childhood, when they still did not really understand anything. But Jon was not going to linger. Change the scarlet inquisitorial cloak for a regular one, change the shirt, take off the sword, all the same it is of little use at the holiday. Against people prayer will do an excellent job, and evil spirits, if they come to the fair, will smell the inquisitor and prefer to bypass the tenth road, without spoiling the entertainment for themselves and for him.

“Here you go.” His brother clucked his tongue approvingly when Jon found him at the gate. “You almost look like a normal man, just let your hair down.”

“What?” At first, he frowned in bewilderment, but then he realized and loosened his hair, gathered in a knot at the back of his head. Inquisitors have always done this. Strands of hair at an unfortunate moment that blocked the view or fell under the arm of the enemy could decide the issue of life and death not in favor of the first. Lords once also wore such hairstyles. But for many decades there have been no major military conflicts, and it has become customary among the noble to let go of their hair down to their shoulders and wear it loose, so that everyone can see that they are not some commoners. “Is it better?”

“It’s perfect. Now you will definitely not be mistaken for an inquisitor. I mean, by those who are for the first time in our area, the rest already know.”

“So, could I pick up the hair?” Jon chuckled and pulled on a warm hood.

“Not worth it.” The cousin returned the grin, straightened his back. “Let's go. Bran predicted an interesting meeting, and I don't want to miss it.”

"Is he already treating visions?" The prophetic gift of the middle of the uncle's sons manifested itself almost a year ago. Jon then barely refrained from applying prayer against his own uncle, who did not want to register his son in the Inquisition. He said that one damned child in the family is enough. It was lucky that aunt Kat took his side that time. Bran was taken to the magister, who looked at his abilities, approved and on the occasion ordered Jon to keep an eye on his cousin. But he was not at all up to that lately. Yet it was too early for Bran to interpret his visions. Usually, seers dealt with this in two or three years, after which they were assigned a mentor who taught not only to explain the visions, but also to control, direct them at the right intervals. “Too early.”

“It happens sometimes. But rarely.” Robb shrugged. He straightened his hood, his voice sounded grim. “More often than not, he does not understand anything. He sees some ravens, blood, fire, silver. Mom is crying, father is angry, Arya is jealous. What kind of family are we, Jon?”

“Normal one.” He just shrugged. And why are they all so worried? A magical gift in the families of lords was not uncommon, which was partly why the Inquisition went first to indulgences, and then to an agreement with magicians. “One magician for five children. In the last generation, there was one for four, our grandfather's half-brother also used magic. This is normal. In the family of your bride, they still observe some kind of ceremony for the glory of the earth, and nothing, even uncle does not bother.”

“Oh, don't remind me. Rob grimaced and waved his hand. Why does she have to be a maid on this day of Rosa? Tell me, what would have changed if we were married?”

“How do I know. Shall I advise you a person who looks after the Tyrells' unique family traditions and at the same time studying them?”

Cousin just waved it off, sighed heavily. “Just think, there are another six months before her eighteenth birthday.” He paused and returned to the previously started topic. “Well, Tyrells, they celebrate this day, and demons with them, but what's wrong with us? One sees the future, and it is as if the end of the world is waiting for us there, the second is chasing evil spirits through the forests, the third dreams of becoming a mercenary, the fourth is overgrown with wool every moon, and the fifth has escaped from the family and the groom and moved to gain enlightenment under the shadow of the Cathedral.”

“And the sixth constantly harasses the others with his normality.” Jon supported in the same tone, and then broke down and laughed. “You know everything about me, Robb. And I cannot answer for the thoughts of your sisters. By the way about them. How is Sansa’s enlightenment going? We did not meet each other in a long time.”

“Very well, I guess. Letters from her have not been received for several moons. Decided, apparently, to finally break with the mundane, I guess. And with us as well.” He sighed heavily. “Mom is upset, and father is not happy either. He had no intention of sending his eldest daughter to a monastery.”

“The main thing is that Sansa is feeling good.” Jon just shrugged. In this situation, he certainly did not regret his uncle. The cousin decided to become a nun after accidentally overhearing the words of a priest who was trying to convince Jon to voluntarily agree to this path. Jon refused and became an inquisitor, and his sister, as it turned out, carried the idea of the path of light for three more years and two years ago she made up her mind and fled to a monastery. “And if something goes wrong, then I will find a way to get her out of there.”

“It's good when you have a cousin inquisitor.” Robb clapped him on the shoulder and then froze, listening intrigued. “Look, it seems that the crowd is not gathered around the merchant. What do you think is there?”

“Someone is dancing.” Jon smiled and moved towards the people. “Let's go and look. You wanted to see the dancers.”

“Especially pretty ones.” People let them through, unwillingly at first, but then they recognized the lord's son and parted. “Oh, she’s only one, but she’s beautiful, right Jon? Jon?”

“Yes. Very beautiful.” It was not possible to say it immediately. As well as to look away from the girl circling in the center of the human circle. A pile of snow-white skirts, a scarlet shirt, a silver braid pinned up with a hairpin on the back of the head, perfect facial features, purple eyes. Dany. Demon.

She froze along with the music, a faint blush barely broke through on her pale cheeks, her breathing, for sure, did not even go astray. For a demon, a quick dance is nothing, not even a few, even without a break. She straightened, looked around at the people, the laughing gaze stopped on Jon, her eyes widened, a smile touched her lips. He can say, shout that there is a demon. The inquisitor should have done so. But for what? He could not handle her alone, even if he had the sword with him. And here are ordinary people who can get hurt, even if they both try not to harm them. It was not worth it. She did not harm him once, perhaps, here she will not do wrong. Although it was worth looking after her.

She slid to the musicians, whispered something quickly, now and then covering her mouth with her hand. She laughed. “What is she up to, I wonder.” Muttered cousin nearby. “Jon, take your eyes off her. Are inquisitors allowed look at girls like that?”

“They are, the main thing is not to get caught.” Jon just tried to laugh it off. Since he has decided not to tell, he should not tell to anyone. Including his cousin. He would hardly understand, he can even tell uncle.

“Consider yourself caught.” Dany finished whispering, the musicians took up the instruments, the melody sounded. Fast, cheerful, half a year as it appeared in the capital and sounded at every ball. Jon knew this dance and even learned how to dance it out of interest. Fortunately, it was not difficult. “Is that a demon’s waltz? An unexpected choice.”

“Demon’s waltz?” This Jon has never heard. Where does this name come from?

“Here in the North, they called him that. There is too much ... demonic in it. Now she will choose a partner and you will see.” Dany stood in a pile of white skirts in front of him, holding out her hand. The music stopped too. It should not be silent for more than a moment. Accept the hand or reject, you need to choose quickly.

He grinned, threw back the hood of his cloak with one movement, with the other hand intercepting her palm and instantly dragging her into the next movement. Turn, step, another turn. Dany leans back abruptly, almost hanging from his arm. If the partner fails, the dancer will hit very painfully. Turn again. Move his hand slightly along her back, helping to rise in motion. They are so close. The whole dance is in this. There is really too much passion in it for the north. Demon’s waltz. Half a century ago, a person who dared to dance it would have been waiting for a fire. And now the inquisitor is dancing.

“You dance well.” She exhaled into his temple at the moment of the next movement, slides her hand along the waist. “For the inquisitor.”

“And you are dancing great.” He intercepted her hand; movement and she press her back to him. “For the demon.”

She stumbled, and for the next two steps Jon literally carried her in his arms, feeling how hot her back was, how her heart beated. She again got up on her feet, unwinds, stands at arm's length, a quick forward movement, their faces at a distance of less than a palm, and then she leans back, again hanging on his arms. The music stops with the last movement. People around stays silent.

“You ruined my reputation.” Jon helped her up, looking at her face with interest. He had already seen it up close, but then everything was less friendly. Her eyes burn with a cheerful light, her cheeks flush, but hardly from the effort expended. “An Inquisitor dancing a dance like this is something new to the north.”

“New is not always bad, who knows it if not the Inquisition.” She licked her lips with a quick and predatory gesture. She still had something of a succubus. Unless, of course, the books were wrong about them. Jon himself has met only one demon, the one in front of him. “I thought you didn't recognize me. Why didn't you say I was a demon?”

“Why didn't you kill me in that house?” He raised an eyebrow slightly. “I think we need to talk, but not here. Let's go.”

She didn't resist. It must be from surprise. Robb also looked with wide eyes, but Jon's gaze understood instantly. They were very close as children. “Madam, please accept my sincere admiration for your talents. You dance beautifully.” Cousin grabbed her hand, quickly touched it with his lips. It’s good Jon did not tell him about the demon, certainly it’s good. “I’m Robb Stark, perhaps you’ll agree to dance in the castle at today's feast.” He smiled, but then as if caught himself, hastily added. “Just not the demon’s waltz. My father will not accept this.”

“I would be delighted to accept your invitation, my lord.” She dropped her eyes, smiled modestly. What an actor. “But, perhaps, you will stay to watch my other dances here?”

“Of course, we will stay.” The question was not addressed to the cousin at all, although people around should have thought that way. Well, at least that was the count. “How can we ignore such an charming lady.”

***

“For the Cathedral.” Cried one of the uncle knights. The cups soared, the priest of Winterfell sulked with pride, Jon only smiled briefly, lifted the goblet, sipped red wine. He always drank little. Not because of prohibitions, they rarely stopped inquisitors, out of habit. Many wanted the inquisitors to die. It would be ridiculous to be helpless in front of your enemies because of your addiction to wine.

Although only he had this habit here. Moreover, Rickon and Bran, who, due to their peculiarities, could not have wine. So, by the end of the evening, Jon risked being among completely drunk people. Robb, sitting next to him, already with drunken daring told Arya about the fair and the dance, adding invented details. Cousin reacted with obvious interest, throwing strange looks at Jon every now and then. Perhaps it was good that he was not going to stay at the feast until the end. It only remained to wait. She was no longer dancing, now only the musicians played. Where was she?

A girl in a white skirt and a scarlet shirt flashed by the door, turned her head, and, he was sure, smiled. He could go. Jon put down the goblet, slapped Robb on the shoulder, pointing to the door. Other way cousin may want to look for him and could hear something that he should not. So, Jon let him think that he knew everything.

“You wanted to talk to me?” She met him right at the door. Already completely different: collected, confident, calm. What she was real? Neither of the two images corresponded to what was written about the princes of demons in the books. “I thought it was forbidden for you.”

“It is forbidden, but I successfully violated it at our first meeting.” Jon thoughtfully surveyed the corridor. It seemed empty, but some of those sitting in the hall may well want to take a walk. And the servants come here periodically. “Let's go to another place. There are fewer people there.”

“Fewer people. Aren't you afraid?” In a voice again cheerful notes flashed, but she followed him without objection. As if he was talking to a human, and not to a demon hiding its wings and claws. “I'm still a demon. What if I attack you suddenly?”

“Suddenly, only crazy people usually attack, and you are not too similar.” He smiled involuntarily. And why does he feel so free while communicating with her? It was sometimes more difficult to find a common language with people. “You had every opportunity to kill me back in that house, but you didn't. Why?”

“I already said. Your presence has not interfered with my plans. On the contrary, it helped.” Jon stopped in a semi-dark corridor near a wall niche. There used to be some kind of vase, but it did not survive his and Robb's competition on wooden swords. A very comfortable place. You will not see one who is sitting there until you come close, and even then, only if the lights are on. And neither he nor Dany needed them. “That which tried to trick me. She promised something for a favor, and when I came to pick it up, she shut herself off from me behind that door, protecting it with spells against demons. So, I was counting on you to remove the spells. As you can see, I was right.”

“Oh well.” Jon shrugged his shoulder, climbed into the niche. “You used my gift to get to the witch. Why step into the trap instead of me? Why not kill me when I removed the protection?”

She frowned slightly, pursed her lips, nevertheless climbed into the niche, sighed heavily. “I don't like killing too much. I don't understand those who find this amusing. You didn’t threaten me, despite being an inquisitor. So, what's the point in extra blood?” For a demon, her words were unusual. What did he even know about demons, though? Only what was written in the books. It is unlikely that they were lying, they were intended for those who could face demons, but the authors could well make everything gloomier than it was. “And about the trap ...” She shifted, as if trying to get comfortable, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I do not know. There was something about you…” She snapped her fingers, narrowed her eyes. “Mysterious. So ... inhuman. It was interesting to me. So, I decided that the trap was not dangerous for me, but it could be some trouble to get you out of there.”

“Hm. I always dreamed of hearing about my unusualness from the prince of demons.” Jon wasn’t too surprised. There were once inhumans in the Stark family, and he knew nothing about his father. But for Dany, he still made a different assumption. “My mother was a sorceress. Maybe it's from her?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Although I don’t feel you as a magician. Rather ... Rather, as one of my own, as a demon.” Apparently, he could not restrain his emotions, as she laughed sincerely. “But it is very, very weak feeling, do not be afraid. You are definitely not one of us. Maybe your mother once drank demon blood and that's why I feel this way?”

“Maybe so. I don't know much about her.” Jon doubted that the sorceress registered in the Inquisition could carry out the rituals Dany spoke about, but as a version, why not. “I was still a child when she died.” Last was said in response to Dany's inquiringly raised eyebrow. She only nodded in response, thought for a while. “So? has your father raised you? Is that why you went to the Inquisition?”

“My uncle. He is quite religious, so I had a choice between the monastery and the inquisition. And I didn’t know my father, I don’t even know who he was. I still remember my mother a little, but not him.”

“I don’t remember my father either.” Her quiet and some kind of heartfelt voice took him by surprise. He did not expect to share his family history with her. It happened. And he certainly did not expect that in return she would start talking about herself. “Brothers told me everything I know about him.”

“Brothers? “As far as he knew, blood ties meant very little to demons. Books said that of all relatives, children usually knew only one parent, the one that raised them. “Have they raised you?”

“No. My mom raised me. She shook her head with a strange, slightly sad smile.” My family was strange. Both for you and for us. Parents have never been, what do you call it ...” Another snap of fingers “married. But no matter how many girls the father had and the men of the mother, they always returned to each other. And I and my brothers are all relatives, from the same parents. Mom raised us, brothers did not see my father often, he was always strange. And died strangely. He decided that he needed more strength and jumped into the volcano shortly before my birth.

“And burned out? “Bathing in lava was not safe even for the prince of demons, although Dany's father might not have been one.”

“No. He was fire demon, like me. Lava was like hot water to him. But he chose a very bad moment. The volcano began to erupt, stones flew from it, along with lava, one of them collided with father somewhere in the middle of the path. Even the prince of demons could not survive that.”

“Yeah, strange history.” Jon shrugged his shoulder, tried not to smile. There was no need to hurt her feelings. “And are your brothers also princes?”

“Yes, both brothers and mother.” She leaned back against the wall of the niche, stretched out her leg, touching the toe of the boot to Jon's thigh. “We are a clean family. Well, except for Reni.” She smiled slyly, slightly moved her leg. Not that Jon was strongly opposed, but her actions did not agree well with the story of the family. “She is the daughter of my older brother. He somehow had an affair with one demoness from the lower, as a result, Reni was born - a succubus. Her mother raised her, but she died ten years ago, and my mother took Reni to us. She is still quite small, only forty years old. Alone she will be lost.”

“And your brother did not show interest in the fate of his daughter?” Jon decided to accept someone else's game and ran his palm over the leg of the interlocutor.

“My brother is dead.” She jerked. Her eyes, in the almost black darkness, flashed with anger. “Twenty years ago, he was killed by some madman from your church warriors. We still have no idea how he did it. Rey was very strong. Much stronger than me. I'm sure it was a trap. He was pulled out by his full name.” The demon's full name gave him too much power to those, who knew it. You just need to know it and several formulas and demon can be summoned anywhere, including into a trap, against his will. Therefore, they treasured their full names so much, revealing them only to those whom they trusted. “If it were not for my mother, the family of this killer - Robert Baratheon,” she said the name with some kind of even pleasure, “would no longer exist. My second brother would send them all after the first. But my mother forbade.”

“I… sympathize.” The name of Robert Baratheon Jon has already heard. He was once a friend of his uncle. In one of the rooms hung a full-height portrait of him, with a huge war hammer. Uncle Ned said he died as a hero. And Robert was also his mother's groom.

“You don’t have to.” Dany sighed, the leg under Jon's palm relaxed. “Demons can hate for a very long time, but Mom is right, innocents should not suffer because of this. It's just that one day I will find the one who told the true name of the brother to Baratheon, and then...” She licked her lips again. Fast, predatory and creepy gesture. It was supposed to be disgusting, but evoked slightly different emotions. “But it seems to me that it’s time to change topic. Are those people, who were sitting next to you, your family?

“Yes. My uncle, aunt and cousins.” Jon pulled one leg to himself, resting his hand on his knee.

“M-m-m. You have interesting relatives.” She moved her leg closer to his again. So, she didn't abandon the idea despite the instant anger. “The magician and the werewolf are not very religious.”

“Bran was born that way.” He responded by sliding his fingers over her ankle and smiled at her eyes widening in amazement. He seems to have just shaken her opinion of the inquisitors. Is it for the better? “And what happened to Rickon is not his fault.”

“I believe.” She lowered her voice, leaned forward, flashing dark eyes. “And is the dark-haired girl also your cousin?”

“Yes, it is Arya. She dreams of becoming a knight, or at least a mercenary.”

“Good dream.” Dany's voice that was usual almost all the conversation suddenly sounded very demonic. As if from everywhere at the same time. With soft, purring, enveloping notes. It was not easy to resist it even with a strong desire. “She likes you. Do you know?”

“We were friends in childhood. Her older sister did not understand her, as did her mother. So, she was looking for solace in my company.”

“No. She likes you not like a brother, like a man.” She leaned even closer, and Jon was speechless without any magic. No, he assumed something like that, his cousin gave him very strange looks, but how does Dany know about this? Although, she seemed to know everything. How old was she?

“Well, then she has nothing to count on.” Managing to speak again, he, like Dany, bent down and lowered his voice. He might not be able to speak like a demon, but he knew about the rest of the stuff. Inquisitors were taught a lot. In the Cathedral, they believed that one cannot resist what one does not know. They thought correctly, probably. Forty years ago, before the change in the ideology of the Cathedral, much more inquisitors perished than now. “She's my cousin, nothing more.”

“And who has something to count on?”

It is not right. An inner voice, which must be responsible for loyalty to the cathedral, told him gloomily. You wanted to find out why she didn't kill you. You found out, well done. But this. What kind of inquisitor are you if you do this? “Do you want to know?” Jon smiled at her, at the same time removing the voice of conscience to hell. Well, yes, he is a bad inquisitor, and this will not be forgiven even in the modern Cathedral ... But he did not care. There was something incredibly attractive about Dany, appealing to that part of nature that the uncle, the Winterfell priest, and the mentor in the Inquisition tried to drown out. Unsuccessful. And the Cathedral ... Let them find out first.

“Of course.” She parted her lips, elongated fangs flashed. “Can we find a place to discuss this?”

***

“M-m-m, so that's how noble lords live. She slipped through the ajar door without embarrassment, slid along the wall, turned around with a sly smile on her lips. “I was counting on something more luxurious.”

“If this was a cousin’s room, you would have the opportunity to enjoy luxury.” Jon grinned and slid the latch, which yielded not without difficulty. “But I haven't lived here for many years. And I have never been noble.”

“Is it true?” She stepped to the window and the moonlight illuminated her silhouette, but hid her face. “Maybe I should go see your cousin. It's somehow even boring.”

“Go.” He stepped aside, clearing the passage. I even wondered if she could leave. “Just don't forget to tell him that you are a demon.”

“Definitely.” She laughed, and laughter sounded again at the same time and from everywhere. “Do you think he'll jump out of the window if I close the doorway?”

“Check it out. But keep in mind he is my close friend, so I will have to take revenge.”

“Oh-oh-oh, I'm already terrified.” She took a step from the window, easily grabbed the shirt with her hand, pulled it up. But it turned out more like a dance movement than a seduction, especially since another one was found under the shirt. Light and with an open back. Reasonably, if she has to release the wings, she will not remain naked. “Will you demonstrate?”

“Easily.” Jon leaned his shoulder against the canopy of the bed, watching Dany. There is no hurry, the whole night is ahead, and this way it was much more interesting. “Will you choose the prayer itself or will you give me an opportunity?”

“Fi.” She grimaced funny, undid the button at the neck. “Can't you handle a fragile girl without it?” She laughed again, pressed her hand to her chest. "Or are you afraid that I'm a demon?"

“Are there any differences from people?” Jon slightly squinted his eyes towards the bed, returned her smile.

“I do not know.” She hesitated for a moment, blinked her eyes, but then came to her senses. She came a little closer, neatly unbuttoned another button. “Want to check it out?”

“Why not?” Jon raised his hand and unbuttoned the cloak, letting it drain onto the floor. “It will be an interesting ... experience.”

“Are such ... experience allowed for you?” She unhurriedly unbuttoned the last button and leaned back, letting the shirt fall to the floor. And at the same time, slowly, as if woven from the moonlight, snow-white wings opened behind her. “Although, to admit, it is much more familiar this way.”

“No… if they find out.” The words managed to squeeze out with difficulty. He had already seen her up close, but not like that. Then he barely had time to understand, but now ... It seemed that only now he realized what he was playing with. Even without a shirt, she looked dignified, strong, and too dangerous. And also, incredibly beautiful. The wings only complemented the image, adding something that the human appearance was deprived of.

“Then we won't allow it.” She came even closer, touched his cheek with a wing, her smile became satisfied. She knew the impression she made on people. “Or have you already changed your mind? Would you like to suggest that I look for the door?”

“No.” It is unlikely that she will leave so easily. Mind offered a reasonable justification, but it made no sense. She won't leave, yes, but Jon didn't want her to leave. Yes, she is dangerous, and much stronger than him, and can kill him, but no girl has ever been able to evoke such emotions in him. So, to the flame of the lower worlds the Cathedral, which will not forgive such, and the mind, which repeats what he was taught all his live. It was stupid, but he had to do stupid things out of debt so many times. Why not commit one for yourself? “Where can I find another such crazy demon?”

“Believe me, there will be many who will want to get to know the inquisitor so closely, and even by his will.” She slid very close, her breath touching her face. “But I'm not going to share. Where can I find another such crazy inquisitor?”

Her lips were scalding hot. Like embers of a fire. Only they did not cause pain, rather the opposite. The wing slid along the temple to the cheek, the man would run his hand, her palms slid over the shirt, unbuttoning the buttons. Long claws, weakly scratching the skin, but not causing pain. Jon stretched out his hand without looking and pulled a long hairpin out of her hair, sharp for sure. With a soft ringing, it flew somewhere into the far corner of the room, Dany's hair was soft and pleasantly fluffy.

“Jon.” She pulled away for a moment, but only to free her lips. “Why did you lock the door? Are you not afraid?”

“Of you?” He lowered his head slightly so that he could whisper in her ear. “Not at all. You won't do anything to me. As I to you. But the servants may not understand. I'm not a fire demon, the fire will kill me.” He touched his lips to her temple, then to her cheekbones.

“I will not let it.” She whispered before returning to the kiss. She had a clasp on her skirt, a strange fastening that easily came apart from one movement. With a rustle, a multi-layered fabric fell to the floor, and her shoes flew off with a clatter. It is a pity that the boots cannot be taken off just as easily. He had to think right away.

“Now we find out are demons different from humans.” Again she whispered, touching fasteners on his pants with her claws.

***

“Jon.” It sounded sleepy and not too convincing from somewhere behind. “Jon.”

“What?” He turned, Dany looked at him with half-lidded eyes and curled lips.

“Let the wing go of.”

“What?” From surprise, he even opened his eyes vide and only then was surprised to find that he seemed to have decided to use her wing instead of a blanket. “I am sorry.”

“It’s nothing. Here you go.” She handed him the edge of the blanket and crept closer. Jon involuntarily winced, he wanted only to sleep, but Dany, it seemed, had enough of the night too. For several minutes she laid in silence, curled up in a hot ball next to him, and Jon almost fell asleep. “Jon.”

“What?” This time he didn't even open his eyes. Even so he will find her.

“Jon, why didn't you say that I was a demon? There, at the fair.”

“Because it could lead to casualties among the innocent.” He sighed heavily and hugged, still without opening his eyes. How warm she was. “I also had no reason to blame you for anything. People would be scared, they would run, someone would try to hurt you. And you didn’t do anything wrong to them or to me. And I do not blame just because someone might have thought of something.”

She didn't answer. And what an answer could be expected. She asked, he answered. Just like she did a little earlier on a very similar question. “Jon.” Very quiet. A palm with long claws covered the hand. “My name is Daenerys.”


	3. Blood magic

“And it's a tricky business, so a mage will be temporarily added to your group. Quite a reliable person. Do you mind?”

“Can I?” Jon turned over his shoulder with a half-smile and looked at the magister, who decided to inform him of the news, when Jon had already grabbed the door handle.

“I should ‘we asked.” Magister Mormont just chuckled and waved his hand at Jon. “Come on, just go. And keep the guys decent. This magician can save your life.”

“I think they will stay by themselves.” Three warriors of the cathedral, who were sent with Jon were not only experienced guys, but also well known to him. They studied practically together. And he was sure that they did not harbor any claims to registered magicians. “They understand very well that there is magic against which only magic works.” Especially if it's blood magic. It contained a part of techniques that cannot be overcome by prayer. Therefore, such magicians were caught only in a group, and therefore magicians were attached to these groups.

“I’m worried not about that.” The magister grinned, shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you will see for yourself. Good luck, Jon. May Creator illuminate your path.”

“His light is always with us.” Jon bowed his head in response to the traditional wish for good luck. “Thank you, magister.”

The guys were waiting for him downstairs. They were in warm jackets, but without coats, it was never cold enough in the Inquisition residence to wear them. The armor was probably peacefully resting somewhere in the bags.

“Look, our inquisitor is coming.” They were all older than him, but had not yet grown to the age when the guards learn to appreciate any inquisitor, regardless of age. Although, judging by the nature of Pip, he will never grow up. “Can you protect us from the terrible blood mage?”

“I will try really hard.” Jon ran down the steps, straightened the sling with the sword, unbuttoned the neck of the Inquisitor's half-cloak, half-mantle. “But I cannot vouch that I will be able to save your long tongue.”

All four of them laughed and finally shook hands. They trained with the guys at about the same time and had time to fight, figuring out who is stronger - a half-trained inquisitor or guards, and work together. Perhaps he could call them friends. Although, it was not necessary to work together after graduation. It was only the second time Jon went on such a serious mission, and the magister of the guards was against the formatting groups of friends. He believed that this reduced efficiency.

“How did Baratheon put us together?” Jon decided to clear up the last question for himself. He still has to work with Stannis and it would be nice to know about changes in politics. “Magister laughed at me a lot after I found out who was in my group.”

“It was not him. Stannis got away somewhere after the longest night and has not yet returned. We still have Lannister in charge, and he has completely different views on working in groups.” Grenn, perhaps the most serious of the three, responded to him.

“Now I want even more for Stannis to ran finally into some demon, like his older brother, so Lannister can finally become our magister.” Edd, responded in his specific manner, but Jon felt an unpleasant chill go through his heart. He knew who was the demon that killed Robert Baratheon. Dany lost brother in that fight. “Well, but why are we talking about this? How was your work in distant lands? How was your visit to home?”

“The distant lands are fun.” The smile came out a little crooked. How unpleasant it was that he had secrets from his friends. “Three times I met with unregistered magicians, fought with robbers, drove the insolent villagers, once barely got into the reverse pentagram.” And met a demon. But he cannot say anything about this, otherwise questions and gossip will certainly arise. “And at home everything is as usual. Bran tries to interpret the visions, Rickon next time, it seems, will strangle me, Robb is yearning in anticipation of the wedding, Sansa finally broke with the hectic world, and Arya decided that falling in love with me is a very good idea.”

“Hah, you won't get bored with such relatives.” Pip grunted; they were aware of Jon's relationship with the family. “It's even seems good that I don't have them. And why somebody wanted to catch you in the pentagram?”

“They wanted to pay the demon with my life.” Jon just shrugged. According to that headman, the witch turned out to be an honest person in her own way and was still going to pay Dany for the service. It turned out that they would have met that day anyway. Although, then this acquaintance would not have ended so pleasantly.

“Wow. And how do you ...” The friend could not finish. From one of the corridors emerged a fat youth in a gray monk's cassock carrying a chest.

“Hello. Hello, hello.” He breathed heavily, as if he had only withstood a small fight, although, most likely, he had only walked from the vault to this place. “The magister ordered to give this to you. Here.”

The chest was opened, and Jon saw five identical sets of two amulets. "Shields", which will withstand a blow or two, if the inquisitor or magician will be taken out of the battle and there will be no one to keep the defense, and "swords", usually used as the last chance to attack an enemy already going to finish you off. Only they didn't work against blood mages. The message was clear. Don't be captured. If defeat becomes inevitable - use "swords" on themselves.

“I see magisters have already buried us.” Edd picked up one of the "swords” with a completely indescribable expression on his face. “Or is it you, Sammy, so impatient to get us off to the Creator?”

“Edd.” Jon frowned as Sam immediately turned pale and began to shake. He wanted to do the best. He is making your life easier. Or do you really want to be in the hands of a blood mage if something goes wrong?” Edd grimaced and put on the amulet, Jon turned back to Sam. “Don't forget to notify the magisters about your idea. Or then you will find yourself guilty.”

“Thank you, Jon, I will.” Sam smiled gratefully, handed the box to the rest of the guys. “And I found something else on your question. I'll show you when you get back.”

“And what are the important questions of the Inquisitor?” Jon shuddered, hearing this voice, slowly turned. Maybe it is not she? There could be similar voices. And what can she do here? In a place where she will not be welcomed at all. “Are you studying something?”

“Yes, there is one topic.” The hope turned out to be false, it was she. She stood in the middle of the corridor with her hands behind her back and glaring from under her long eyelashes. What does she want here? The worst meeting place was hard to imagine. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm working.” She grinned completely calmly, as if being in the residence of the Inquisition was not a mortal danger for her. “For the nearest future I am your magician. Here you go.” She stretched out from behind her right hand in an impeccable white glove and held out the folded sheets to Jon. Certificate of registration in the Inquisition and the order to join the battle group. Everything is formalized and certified as expected and yet, how?

“Can I talk to you?” Guys, of course, will have questions about such an acquaintance, but he has already been revealed, and it was much more important to find out why the demon took part in the destruction of the blood mage. “Tet-a-tet.”

“Why not?” She didn't even try to resist when he grabbed her hand and dragged her into the corridor from which Sam had recently jumped out. “About what?”

“About reason for you to be here.” The voice had to be lowered to a loud whisper. Corridors muffled sounds, but it was best not to risk. Topic was too dangerous for both of them. “And how, in the name of the Creator, did you end up a registered magician?”

“Mom had friends at the very top of the Cathedral.” She smiled enchantingly, at the same time showed the thin needles of fangs. “And I am here to help you catch the blood mage who has crossed all the frames.”

“Since when do demons fight magicians who have crossed the frames?” About friends Jon wisely decided not to elaborate. He will live longer and calmer.

“Not from any. This is my private initiative. I decided to help you.” She furrowed her brows a little, but her voice remained the same. She didn't try too hard to convince him of her displeasure. “Why are you displeased?”

“Because everyone around can learn about my relationship with the demon.” He was not ready for her presence in that part of his life that concerned the Inquisition. “And how will you help us? You're not a magician.”

“The next such statement will be perceived as an insult.” She raised her hand and a fire flared at the tips of her folded fingers. “I’m be stronger than most of your magicians, and also, in case of emergency, I can get you out of there.”

“Through the nether worlds.” Although it was certainly better than ending in the hands of a blood magician alive or perishing from your own amulet. And if you think carefully, he does not risk anything. Even serious servants who checked Dany before the paperwork did not see a demon in her, what could he do. A great excuse if she opens up.

“And why did the lower worlds not please you? Or do you prefer an altar?” She held out her hand with a smile. “Well, what about making peace? In any case, we still have to work together.”

“Maybe this is my secret dream.” He grunted solely just to leave the last word for himself. Stupid and childish, but he can't do anything else, she was right. “Let it be peace. Please just be careful, okay? I don't want to fight with the guys for you.” He took her hand with a sigh, smiled weakly. “And thanks for the help.”

***

“It'll take a lot of time.” Dany hissed through gritted teeth, taking another blow from the blood mage on her shield. “He prepared for your arrival long ago. And probably did a couple of dozen rituals for preparation.”

“And what?” It was not convenient for him to give out long speeches. You cannot read a prayer with hand passes, and a single shield bended so hard that it can break at any moment. They had to combine the fire shields of Dany and his own, created by prayers. The "shields" of the amulets, given to the guys did not give any protection at all. Grenn, who had discovered this, layed unconscious under a tree behind Jon. Pip, who was pulling him away, was reclining under the same tree with a split side and breathed hard. Edd with a sword bald, stomped alongside, unable to somehow interfere in the battle of the magicians.

“As long as we play by his rules, he is stronger than us.” Dany improved the moment, threw her hand forward, and this time the blood mage had to repulse the attack; however, he did not lose his head and immediately spent his own, not allowing to consolidate the success. “We need to change them. Can you distract him, make sure that he doesn't have time to look for me?”

Great question. The two of them barely defend themselves, and she offered not only to defend, but also to attack, otherwise the blood mage will certainly have a moment or two to find Dany. But she was right. Judging by the frequency and strength of the attacks, the magician was well prepared, performed a sufficient number of terrible bloody rituals, which provided him with an almost endless supply of power. They will fizzle out earlier. He's for sure. On the other hand, if he no longer has to think about protecting the guys, He could try. “I'll try.” Briefly on the exhale he responded. She nodded and formed a fiery blade in her palm. “Is sword enough?”

“I'll try to get by.” She shook her head briefly, folded her arms, reshaped her part of the shield into a kind of fire net and slid back toward the forest.

“Edd.” Jon took advantage of the fact that the blood mage was forced to disentangle his shield from the net. “All amulets, your own and those of guys, to me, now. And drag guys into the forest. Keep your head down, there is nothing you can do about it.

“Yes, I’ve already understood that they put us in group just to distract the sorcerer. “Despite the grumbling Edd tore off both of his amulets and threw them to Jon, then rushed to the guys. He should have understood perfectly well, that everything depended on whether Dany's plan will be implemented or not.

Jon himself had to switch his attention to the magician, who decided not to disentangle the shield spell, but threw it at Jon along with the net. What a stupid move. Prayer sounded over the forest full. A silver spear pierced the center of the shield reinforced with a net and, unable to pierce it, pushed towards the magician. Protection against such blows is of little help. The mage had to dispel his own spell and hit the spear somewhere upward with an attack. But he put up a shield. The blow knocked him off his feet and dragged him across the grass for a dozen steps, almost to the very edge of the forest.

Another pause. Jon accepted the amulets offered by Edd without looking, and hang all three "shields" around his neck. Four amulets must withstand one blow, and he doesn't need more. With a quick movement, he linked the chains of "swords", and then the blow followed. The “shields” held out, although at first Jon doubted it. His palms and chest burned with fire; world darkened in his eyes. He dropped to one knee and sent another spear to where the mage was before the attack. Judging by the scream from the other side, the attack was not expected. But it was clearly too early to relax. A blood mage with such a reserve of strength was reliably killed only by cutting off the head, other injures, even a hole in the heart, he could regenerate.

Darkness cleared, and he preferred to dodge the next "whip". Shields held such blows badly, but it was quite easy to escape from them, especially when you did not need to think about protecting others.

Another spear flew into the sorcerer, one of the simplest attacking prayers, and Jon finished weaving the "swords" together. The downside of prayers is that they could be created only by voice. Deprive the inquisitor of it, and he will remain an ordinary person. Plus – prayers required no passes. Hands stayed free and at the same time you can read a prayer, make a braid of four swords and dodge other sorcerer’s blows. During training, inquisitors were taught to read prayers even on the run, even in a jump, even in a half-dead state. The braid was a little more difficult. Last time Jon weaved it in ten years, when Sansa persuaded him.

“You can't run forever, inquisitor.” The magician was slightly out of breath. His figure was very obese, and it seemed that even a slight load was given to him not without difficulty.

“And I was not going to.” Jon finished the prayer and smiled wryly at the magician. Anyone in his place should have been alerted. If the inquisitor in the middle of a battle instead of reading prayers talks to you, something is wrong. But the magician did not even pay attention, he just opened his mouth for some other phrase. What was the matter with him?

Jon decided not to wait for the continuation of the conversation, activated all the "swords" at once. Here the magician was alerted, however, immediately relaxed, realizing what was flying towards him. He didn't even put up a shield, although it would not help. The spell of "swords" touched the magician's chest and melted, he smiled, and immediately a thin white mesh spread over his body. Jon stepped forward, drawing his sword from its scabbard.

For another forty years, no one could even think about what he did, another twenty for this he could be expelled from the order and sent to a monastery. You cannot combine the gift of an inquisitor and magic, this is wrong. But so effective.

The magic of the "swords" covered the "dome", a prayer capable of cutting off the magician from power. According the power of this one, Jon only had a few moments, but in them the magician was completely helpless. He only had to run away. Well, or use his own blood to gain strength.

But magician did not the one neither the other. Hastily, he snatched a round locket with some kind of engraving from the folds of his clothes, pointed it at Jon, and quickly muttered something. Jon even managed to recognize the summoning formula and understand that this time he definitely would have no time for anything, when a demon jumped out of the forest behind the magician, although it was hardly the one he was counting on.

The fiery sword easily pierced the back of the magician somewhere in the area of the lung, forcing him to choke with a squeal and fall to his knees. Dany ignored the scream. She took the blade of the body, kicked the magician onto his stomach, and with a completely indifferent face broke his wrists with her heel. The squeal that followed the crunch of breaking bones made Jon shake his head painfully. “Jon, would you do a favor?” But Dany seemed to be quite satisfied with the volume of the sound. She bent down and grabbed the sorcerer by the hair, lifting his head up. “I, of course, can tear it off, but then your Council will have questions.”

“So, we will not give them reasons to ask.” Jon ran his hand over the sword, leaving a short prayer on it, so as not to suffer with the deprivation of the sorcerer's head. Interesting, could Dany really tear off a man's head? “In general, it is customary for us to wish that Creator would accept you in his gardens.” Jon already turned to the sorcerer. “But from myself I’ll wish you only to find worst afterlife.” A short stroke of the blade that left a luminous strip behind, and the sorcerer's head fell on the ground, covered with a thin layer of trampled snow.

“Perfect. It is done.” Dany shook off her white gloves, stretched her shoulder, looked around the clearing and Jon himself. “Now you have to clean your mantle. What were you doing here?”

“Distracted the sorcerer so he would not know where you are.” Jon examined the cloak. It was not so bad, at least he didn't wipe the sword on it, preferred snow. “I cannot attack and defend at the same time. I had to run.”

“Have you read the attacking prayers and at the same time ... ran?” Dany once again looked around the clearing with a rather puzzled expression on her face. Then she again looked up at Jon. “And are you tired?”

“I'm tired.” He shrugged, on the ground next to the dead sorcerer, something flashed. What was there? “But, if necessary, I can repeat. We were taught that way.”

“You mean all inquisitors can read prayers and dodge attacks and not even lose their breath?” She frowned, clenched her right hand into a fist. “In my experience, it is not true.” She touched the strand that fell out of the braid, tucked it behind the ear. “And tell me, as a child, could you run longer than other children or, I don’t know, fight on the swords?”

“I do not remember. Maybe.” He pulled that medallion out of the red snow. A round piece of iron, the size of a palm, on a chain, on the reverse side there was an engraved raven with wings spread open. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just thinking.” A shadow fell on the amulet. Dany walked over and stood beside him. “What do you have?”

“I do not know. Blood mage was going to use this thing to summon a demon.” Jon turned the medallion in his hands, but apart from the engraving of the raven, nothing interesting was found on it. “Being under the "dome". What do you think is the probability that a demon summoned without a pentagram or a leash will obey the summoner?”

“Zero.” Dany sat down next to him and Jon handed her the amulet. “Unless, of course, it is your familiar demon.”

“Could this thing be something like a leash?” He didn’t feel magic in the amulet, but maybe it wasn’t it.

“Hardly. Only if all the power has evaporated.” Dany also turned the medallion in her hands, ran her gloved hand along the edge, along the crow. “But I think, it is something like an identification mark.”

“Do you think he was a member of some sect?”

“Maybe. I saw the pentagram as I went around the clearing. Everything there was so saturated with blood that even I felt sick. One person could not do this.”

Jon nodded slowly. “Maybe. This explains something. You know, during the battle he acted in a completely different way than a magician with such strength should have, too clumsy. And from the spells he only had balls and whips. Poor arsenal, frankly. As if the strength was given to a complete beginner.”

“Do you think someone experimented?” Dany returned the amulet and straightened. “For what, to check the reaction of the Inquisition?”

“I have no idea, but I would like to understand.” Jon got up too, put the medallion in his inner pocket. “I'll try to figure out something about this sign. Perhaps someone from the order has seen it before or heard something. Will you try to find out from your own kind?”

“I’m not sure I can.” Strange demons should be well versed in cults and sects. At least as good as the Inquisition. Or was she simply unwilling to disclose awareness? “Every second person in our world is a member of some cult or association, and often more than one. Demons love to have fun like that. To find one among this variety, would be like looking for a needle not even in a haystack, but in the whole field of such haystacks.”

“As you say.” Jon grimaced at mild disappointment. Well, he has to figure it himself. He can also ask Sam. He liked to search for information in the huge archives of the Cathedral. “Let's go look for the guys. Pip was wounded, so I need to see how serious everything is. I don’t want him bled to death. Although, I confess, my healing prayers never were good."


	4. Mysteries of love

“Why did you want to see me, uncle?” A letter from his uncle, with a request to come, Jon received three weeks after the adventure with the blood magician. It was possible to ignore the letter, well, you never know why it didn’t come, it just happens, but Jon was so tired of looking for a mention of the mysterious amulet that he left Sam its image, asked the magister permission to leave and went to Winterfell, again. “The castle is quiet. What happened?”

“A lot of things.” Jon looked at the letter on his uncle's desk, but immediately lost interest. Correspondence with one of the neighbors. “Arya ran away. Everyone is looking for her, but cannot find.” So, cousin still decided to fulfill her dream. Although Jon hoped she would consult with him. “But I’ll deal with her myself. I have more delicate business for you.” Undoubtedly. Uncle did not like to turn to Jon with requests, he was either embarrassed that his nephew entered the Inquisition against his will, or he never forgave his willfulness. If it were a usual business, uncle would have applied to the Inquisition openly. “Have you heard about Robb?”

“That he broke off the engagement and decided to marry the Westerling damsel.” Jon's cousin's decision puzzled him, there was only a few months to wait, and Robb liked Lady Margaery, but Jon was not going to blame him for his decision to make life of his own free will. “I wrote to him, but he did not answer.”

“So, you too. Kat also wrote to him, but he did not answer also.”

“And why do you need me?” Jon clenched his hand into a fist, then slowly relaxed his fingers “If you think that I can force my cousin back, then you are mistaken.”

“I raised you and I know perfectly well that it is useless to ask you with such requests.” Uncle sighed heavily, leaned back in his chair. And I am not a beast, to drag my own son down the aisle by force. I let you go to the Inquisition after all.”

“I'm sorry, maybe I really was too harsh.” Jon, too leaned back in his chair, tried to look at his uncle without a load of childish grievances and reservations. “So why do you need me?”

“I think something is wrong here, Jon. It's too fast. He went to the West, met a girl and immediately decided to break off the engagement and get married. I don't believe in such sudden love. I do not believe.” Jon barely controlled himself not to chuckle. It also happens quickly, like they have with Dany. While his uncle may be right, he still wasn't sure if the feelings he had for the demon were love. And all the more, he was not ready to vouch that she had something other than interest in him. “I want you to go to Westerling Castle and figure it out. If he really fell in love, then remind him of his duty, and if he doesn't listen, then at least he should have courage to personally tell me and Tyrells about everything.” Correct thought. For the sake of this, Jon, perhaps, was even ready to sacrifice principles and force to return his cousin to Winterfell. Let him arrange his life as he wants, but he needed to answer for his decisions. “But, if something is wrong, I really hope that you, as an inquisitor, will be able to figure it out and return my son to me. Can you do it, Jon?”

“I’ll do my best, uncle.” Jon got up, the conversation was definitely coming to an end. “When is the wedding?”

“In the coming days. That's all I know.” It's bad if uncle was right and something was wrong, then he needed to be in time before the wedding. There are spells that can only be dispelled before her, after a person can be considered lost. But he couldn't make it to the west in time. If only ... Would she agree?

“I will have to ask for the help of a magician friend, otherwise I will not be in time.” Uncle only nodded wearily. Jon was even a little sorry for him, three children had already run away from home, only little werewolf and sorcerer remained. “I’ll write to you when I’ve dealt with everything.”

“Jon.” Uncle called out to him when Jon had already grabbed the door handle. “I think it was worth saying that long ago. I am proud that you became an inquisitor. It's good that Ben found you a place that benefits all of us.” Jon could only shrug his shoulders. It turned out that uncle was still embarrassed, he was silent for so many years. Well, in silence he has no equal, he never said anything about his father, and about his mother, too, just some trifles.

From his uncle Jon went to his room, well, he could not summon a demon in the courtyard of the castle. He knew how to do it, although he had never done it before, of course. Draw a pentagram, arrange candles and pronounce the formula. Of all this, Jon made only the last. She could have killed him too many times, and something told him that summoning into the pentagram would only increase the price she would ask for help. And she will definitely ask. Demons never miss their advantage. For the same reason, he gave a short name. Let her hear it, but decide for herself. It was worth pulling out by the full only in extreme cases. This one was not like that.

Nothing happened for several minutes. Jon sat down heavily on the bed, leaned back, closed his eyes. What should he do now? She was his only chance to get to west in time. He could not summon a random demon. He hasn't gone mad yet. At best, he will simply be killed after the opening of the pentagram, there may be worse options. Has he to go to tell uncle that his acquaintance hasn't answered and he can't do anything? No, he can't. He must do everything he can, if only for Robb's sake.

“Did it seem to me or was someone calling me?” A familiar voice sounded overhead, and a thin palm covered her lips. Tightly, he couldn't say a word. “I’ve caught you, inquisitor. And what should I do with you now? Who summons the demon without the pentagram? Or were you not taught this?”

Jon slowly opened his eyes to see the laughing purple eyes and the smile on the thin lips, her hair almost touched his face. “I was taught.” He raised his hand and removed her hand from his lips. “But I thought that this was not necessary.”

“Are you sure?” She bent down, her hair running down his cheek. “And if it is?”

“Then why did you let me remove your hand?” Jon tucked her hair behind her ear and, unable to resist, slid his fingers over her cheek. “I need your help.”

“Recently you refused any.” She rested her head on his chest, on intertwined fingers.

“Sorry.” He apologized a lot today, as if he also did not have to do this before Robb. “Is that enough?” In response, only a smile and a squint of violet eyes. “My brother suddenly decided to break off the engagement and marry another girl. Uncle thinks something might be wrong here. I need to get to west soon.”

“And you want me to get you there?”

“Yes. Can you?”

“I can. Not to the castle itself, only to the nearest circle of stones.” Jon knew almost nothing about stone circles. Like the rest of the Inquisition. It was known that with their help demons moved from the lower worlds, but no one except the initiated cultists could find them. And now she offered to show him one? “But you have to pay.”

“What?” He was waiting for this question, but his heart still sank. That's how you lose your soul. One contract, then second, and you are ready for anything, for them to help you, and your wishes come true.

“First, I'll go with you. I want to see what's wrong with your brother. We know each other, though not very well. And secondly.” She straightened, only to bend over to his face. So close that her breath could be felt on the skin. “It happened so, Jon, that I now have no one but you. No humans, no demons. And I missed you. Well, are you satisfied with the price?”

“Quite.” She could help him, even if he did not completely trust her. The demons were good at cursing. And the second… It was foolish to deceive himself, claiming that he did not want to. “I'm ready to give a part right now.”

***

The circle of stones turned out to be literally a circle. Perfectly one, composed of white round stones that reached Jon's knee.

“Is that all?” It was necessary to hurry, but curiosity overcame. Jon was not sure if he would see something like this again.

“Do you need something else?” The stone was rough and surprisingly warm to the touch. And this is in winter. “It's a pity I can't show you the nether worlds. If you react to the circle that way, what would you say there?”

“And would I have any time to say something? Or would they kill me right away?” Jon left the stone alone and turned to smiling Dany. It was necessary to determine where they were and how to get from here to Craig, Westerling’s Castle.

“You would have time. We've got plenty of room over there to miss one inquisitor. Of course, until he starts reading prayers.” She slightly tilted her head, straightened her tousled braid. “Nearest castle is east of here, twenty minutes on foot. I hope this is the one you want, there are no more circles around.”

“In any case, it's worth a walk. At least to find out where we are.” Dany, as it turned out, was poorly guided in the maps, that there was a circle near the castle, she was able to say, to show where the circle exactly was - no. Though, perhaps she just didn't trust him enough. “Do you really hear prayers that well?”

“Here we don’t.” Dany stepped over the border of the circle, and her silhouette somehow blurred. “But at home - yes. Reading it there is tantamount to beating a dozen gongs at once.”

“Was there an experience?” Jon also went out of the circle and the world and Dany gained clarity. “I thought that ...” Jon could not finish, as he decided to turn to the circle. Or to the place where it used to be. “So, this is how it goes.”

“Exactly. The circle can be seen only after series of rituals, which, um, you will not like them. Most demons do not accept them and forbid them to their followers.” She straightened her braid again, furrowing her brows subtly. “And I personally did not have experience, but my brother told me. We have had many guests of your kind, both involuntary and voluntary.

“Have you ever had followers?” He didn’t want to think about the members of the Cathedral who voluntarily stayed in the nether worlds. Especially about the inquisitors. People believed that it was impossible to betray the Cathedral, Jon knew very well that it was not. He betrayed the Cathedral by his communion with Dany, his connection with her. The thought of those who went further seemed to him a harbinger of his future.

“There was a case.” She once again straightened her hair, but it immediately fell out again, and Dany pulled off the tape from her braid with one movement. “Hold the tape please. So that's it. I was still quite a girl then, quite recently I first came to your world; everything was so interesting. So, I founded here ... a small circle of friends, I guess. I hid that I was the demon, they considered me a human and were amazed that I did not burn in the fire.” She smiled a little dreamily, but not cheerfully, her fingers quickly intertwining strands of hair. “How many things we have done with them. It was fun. I even almost decided to marry one.”

“And what's then?” Jon twirled the tape in his hands. Scarlet silk, black embossing. Her story was probably many years old, and the bitterness sounded in her voice. Young Dany then lost something very important. Was it only friends? Or was there something else?

“And then they found out that I was a demon. It happened.” A quiet sigh, a strand of braid does not lie correctly, but she does not even notice her mistake. “And some saw it as… an opportunity. It took only a few months, and my friends turned into cultists or fled. I didn't know what they were capable of doing. Rhaegar said that they need to be done away with, this is not the case for a member of our family to have such followers. They offered to help me, but I refused, I killed everyone myself. And I decided that from now on for people I will only be a demon.”

“And what changed your opinion?” With him, she didn’t behave quite the way a demon should with a man. Didn't kill on first meeting. She did not throw him away as a used thing, when satisfied her curiosity, and for some reason she shared such intimate stories.

“Rey with his love. She was a witch, she summoned a demon and summoned him. She knew who he was from the very beginning, but did not turn into an enthusiastic admirer. At least that's what I thought.” She finished her braid, without looking, reached out for the tape. “And you probably did a little. I didn’t expect such nobility from an inquisitor.”

“You don't know a lot about people and about inquisitors as well.” Jon handed her the tape, but did not open his hand, froze. “Let me tie it up.”

“Do you know how?” She turned her head slightly, narrowed her violet eyes.

“I know.” She froze, and then held out the tip of her braid, tilted her head back a little. “You trust human so easily after the story with your friends. I couldn't do that.” He tied a tape around her hair, braided part of a braid with it, tied a bow. Once Sansa taught him, he did not think that it would ever come in handy when he played with dolls with his little cousin.

“You trusted the demon after everything you’ve been taught, I think it’s close to agreeing to let you tie a tape on my braid.” She turned around, took a step closer to him so quickly that he almost recoiled in surprise. “Even if you can use it to cut my head off.” Almost in a whisper, the breath touched his temple. “You won't do that, will you?”

“I won't.” He pulled her braid slightly, forcing her to pull away. “I will be bored without you.” And what about Robb, feebly the voice of conscience tried to remind him when he grabbed Dany around the waist and touched her with his lips, but Jon threw it away as usual. Brother will wait for a few minutes; they will hardly manage to marry him during this time. It will be worse if someone appears on the trail.

“Me too.” She responded when they pulled away from each other, ran her wing over her cheek, smiled. “There is something in you that I begin to understand mom. She was never able to leave father, although many loved her.”

“Well, I'm not a demon.” He touched her wing, stroked it with his finger. “It's even a pity.”

“Can you only remember the demon?” She jokingly clicked her claws, turned around. “It's time to remove wings and claws. Here is the road not far away, the demon with the inquisitor will become news for the locals.”

“And upon my return there will be a warm welcome in every sense.” How her wings appear, Jon has already seen, now he watched how they disappear, become ghostly, like a fog and melt. The claws also disappeared, and on the path in front of him stood a very beautiful, but almost ordinary human girl. You won't guess if you don't know. “I would not want it.”

“I'm not very found of this idea either.” She tugged at the red jacket, which had no slits on the back for the wings. “Come on, there is a fairly large road literally a few steps away, and there you will see the castle.”

“I will introduce you as a mage of the Inquisition if the need arises. Don’t you mind?” She moved forward so decisively that it became clear that she was not here for the first time. “Have you been here?”

“Of course - no. And this is the answer to both questions.” She turned with a sly smile, parted the branches of the tree overhanging the path, and slipped through them.

“And, of course, you’re not lying.” Jon followed her and, unexpectedly for himself, found himself on the road, wide and well-trodden. Not knowing that the path begins behind the spreading tree, it was impossible to find it.

“Rather, I am not saying the whole truth. I was here, but not at all for the sake of a visit to that castle that will be around the corner. I had business in the village with him. I never tried to find out the name of the castle then.”

“Let’s find out now. If the village is large, then there will probably be a groom, and they are obliged to provide horses at the request of the Inquisition.”

“The ride can take a long time.” She sighed, shrugged. “Do you think your cousin has been bewitched, or is he just a fool?”

“Not every lover is a fool.” They turned a bend and Jon was able to observe the castle. Smaller than Winterfell, without the graceful turrets and spiers of the capital. Squat with wide towers, such, as a rule, belonged to poor families, unable to give their homes the proper polish. “Although I don’t understand what could have pushed the cousin to such a rash act. He loved his bride, although he was dissatisfied with the impossibility of a quick wedding, and I did not notice him before the inclination to hasty actions.”

“Hmm. This speaks in favor of magic. And who was his bride?”

“Lady Margaery Tyrell.”

“O-o-o.” Dany laughed and covered her mouth with her hand. “Then everything is clear about the wedding. Is it Rose Day, huh?”

“Do you know about it? “Jon himself was not overly interested in Tyrell’s traditions. The Inquisition recognized them as harmless for a very long time and only watched the unusual family.

“Yes. On this day, the girl turns to the special gift of their family and can accept it if she wishes. But over the past couple of centuries, there have been no brave ones.”

“And to use this power you need to be a maid?”

“To accept it, you must be a maid.” Magic does not tolerate inaccuracies, and Tyrells prefer to keep their girls the opportunity to accept the gift, even if they have refused for many years. Especially if there is only one daughter in the family - like Lady Margaery.” Dany shrugged. Several children sitting on the side of the road were pointing fingers at them, the first village houses approached unexpectedly soon. “And what are we doing now?”

“Let's go over there.” Jon shook his head and immediately noticed what he was looking for. Signboard with a horseshoe. Groom, excellent. He was already almost sure that they were in proper place, in the Western Lands there were not so many poor houses, but it was worth double-checking. And it is not proper for an inquisitor to come to visit on foot, like some kind of monk. “Let's clarify about the castle and take horses so as not to come on foot like petitioners.”

“Does the need of being a petitioner scare you?” Despite her tone, she obediently leaned on his elbow and followed him. Well, they just lacked contradictions.

“No. But it will diminish solidity. And the inquisitor should not be allowed to hit his reputation. It somehow very quickly spread throughout the order, and may will want to get rid of the one who casted the shadow. I would not like to end up in a monastery.”

“To the monastery for a walk?” She got in the stalls with a laugh, clung a little tighter than she should have, but only for a moment. “But if it happens, then I will visit you. At least every night.”

“Will you need me dumb?” Jon himself did not believe in his words, he just made fun of her, and justified his actions in the same way as with Rickon. Although she understood that he was not entirely honest with her. “Inquisitors are deprived of their voice before any exile, otherwise you cannot keep track of those who have prayers for a long time.”

“Got it.” She chuckled again, but was almost immediately distracted by the white horse in the stall to her right. “Look how beautiful. Are the same ones used in the south for horse racing?”

“My lady is absolutely right. This is the best Dornish horse.” And here is the groom. With a satisfied smile and shining eyes. Intended to sell a horse to an enthusiastic girl at an overpriced price.

“Dornish are never white. So, it is a cross and only half at best.” Jon, under the sad gaze of the groom, pulled the inquisitor's medallion and showed it. “But we'll take her and another horse. But fast.”

“Yes, m-my lord.” The groom's hands were already shaking. What a strange reaction to the inquisitor. If everyone here reacts like that, then it is good that he did not wear the scarlet inquisitorial mantle, preferring the usual one. Or has the groom did something illegal? He would like to check, but he was in a hurry. He'd better report it upon his return to the order. Someone will be found there to check. “And ... Are you passing through our area?”

“We have business to Lord Westerling.” Definitely something was wrong with this merchant, and his stable was too large. Jon was counting on two or three horses, as usual it was. Just for the case if the lord or his guests will urgently need them. But there were more than a dozen horses. Something was wrong.

“But, Lord Westerling is not in the castle.” Though the castle was the correct one. Now if everything went smoothly with Robb, he can assume that the day was a success. “There’s only his wife and daughters.”

“Then questions will be asked to them.” Jon glanced at Dany. She frowned, fingering the end of her braid. She didn't seem to like it here either. “Horses, now.”

***

“I beg your pardon for my appearance, but we were not expecting guests today. Lady Sybell's appearance showed it. The dress was in folds, they did not have time to smooth it out, there was no wide belt obligatory for a lady of her age and splendor figure, and her hairstyle was too simple.

“Don’t apologize, Lady Sybell.” Jon smiled, made a slight bow. As to equal. Although she was not. As an inquisitor, he stood above her, and as a bastard, much lower. But he had allowed himself to neglect such things for years. When people learned that he was from the Inquisition, the lords and ladies were usually not offended. “You are beautiful.”

“You are very gallant.” She blushed and gave Dany such a look that made Jon want to laugh. Hasn’t anyone told her compliments for a long time? Or does she not know how to discern ordinary politeness? “Let me ask you for what business you came to my house, Jon, right?

“That's right, my lady. My business is extremely personal. I heard that my brother Robb Stark is marrying your adorable daughter, and I wanted to visit him and congratulate him on such a joyful occasion.” And also, to figure out whether the event was so joyful and whether my cousin lost all his brains from love, or he was a little ... helped to lose them. “Can I see him?”

“Undoubtedly. My daughter and your brother will be coming down soon. I hurried so as not to keep our guests waiting. Our home has always been famous for its hospitality.” Lady again looked at Dany, but this time already tenacious and appraising. “Perhaps you can introduce me to your companion.”

“Of course.” He tilted his head slightly. “Lady Sybell this is Dany, my…” a moment of delay, a slight smile from the corner of her lips, “friend.”

“Are you mage?” Dany tried to curtsy awkwardly, but was stopped by a wave of mistress's hand.

“Yes, my lady.”

“Are you registered in the Inquisition?”

“Yes, my lady, you can't practice freely without it. I didn't want to hide all of my life.” And her eyes were so modestly lowered her voice, so tender and melodious. Maybe she cheated the inquisitors' this way. She looked as the very embodiment of purity, especially if she chose the right outfit.”

“Right decision, child.” Child? Jon suppressed a smile with difficulty. This child was probably in age of Lady Sibell’s grandmother, but she does not even know about it. “I was also a little fond of witchcraft, before I got married. Then, when children began to be born, I had to abandon it. But I do not regret, they are the most beautiful thing in my life. “Heels knocked behind the doors and a girl a little older than Arya, but much more ladylike, appeared in the hall. “Meet Elaine, my youngest daughter.”

“Nice to meet you, Lady Elaine.” Jon bowed again, Dany waited a little and followed his example. “You are as beautiful as your mother.” The girl, who performed a curtsy much better than Dany, immediately blushed and lowered her eyes. What was with them? You say polite words, and they became embarrassed or jealous of your companion.

“Sit down at the table.” Lady Sybell gestured to a small table with several glasses of wine and fruit. “I took the liberty of ordering a little treat to be served until lunch was ready.”

“Oh, this is completely unnecessary, we were not going to stay for lunch at all.” Whatever was happening to Robb, they will leave much earlier. “But we're grateful for the treat.”

“I must insist. You are my guests. It is my duty to take care of you.” Somehow Jon did not like the smile of the lady and her assessing looks too. If she was engaged in witchcraft before marriage, then she may well remember many past skills. Maybe she's looking for the groom for second daughter. We have a wonderful cook.

“His father was a cook at the Lannister house.” Softly from the doors. Jon turned around. Jane Westerling turned out to be a lovable creature with brown hair and dark eyes. Charming. But that's all. Margaery Tyrell was much more beautiful. “And they do not keep clumsy ones.” And next to her stood Robb, and one glance at his cousin was enough to understand that uncle was not mistaken, anticipating trouble. A frozen look, almost no emotions on his face, but as soon as he turns his head to Jane, his face immediately lights up with a stupid smile and almost puppy delight. Only the eyes remain dead. An ordinary person might not have paid attention, but everything was obvious to the inquisitor.

“Love Potion.” Dany barely whispered to him. She really was understanding this kind of things, not in vain he hoped for her help.

He only squeezed her hand in response, but turned to Jane Westerling. “I have no doubt, Lady Jane. And yet we didn't expect to stay that long.”

“Jane, what a behavior ...” Lady Sybell turned to her daughter, but did not really have time to scold her, a servant appeared at the door, and she hurried there with apologies.

“Well, we ask you dearly.” Jane, taking advantage of the absence of her mother, decided to continue the conversation, affectionately tilted her head to one side. “Robb, tell them. You can't refuse your brother.”

“Stay, Jon.” Not a brother, girl, a cousin. And now he does not say his words, only yours, but why not play along. He still needed time to figure out how to get the brother out without a fight, which will undoubtedly happen if he takes out the sign of the Inquisition.

“Well, if you ask.” Jon stepped up to his cousin with a carefully measured smile, clapped him on the shoulder. “Congratulations on your upcoming wedding. And for you too, Lady Jane.”

“And from me also.” Dany came closer. “Don't you remember me, Lord Stark?”

“No, my lady. I don't seem to have the honor of knowing you.” Robb's voice was also somehow lifeless, although this was noticeable only if you know his real one. Lady Sybell had a bad potion. The simplest one. She was either a bad sorceress, or too self-confident one.

“What a pity. We were introduced to each other and you even called me charming.” Dany sighed bitterly and held out her hand for a kiss. Robb obediently touched it with his fingers to bring to his lips. Lights flashed in Dany's eyes, a soft whisper escaped his lips, Robb flinched as if he had been hit, staggered, and only the fact that Jon squeezed his hand on his cousin’s shoulder prevented his Robb from falling.

“Jon, is that you?” Robb blinked his eyes in which life reappeared. This does not happen this way, the action of a love potion cannot be removed so easily, you need to wait until it passes by itself. Or you can use pray, but it took longer and does not guarantee the result. And Dany did it easily. The Cathedral still did not know much about demons. “How? What…”

He did not have time to finish, something flashed on the verge of visibility, ringing, clear and loud, echoed through the room. White smoke rose from the floor. He had to hold his breath until it dissipated, but Jon managed to open his mouth to answer his cousin and was unable to do anything. His throat seared with a flash of pain. Only for a moment, but he knew very well what that could mean.

“That's it.” Lady Sybell stood at the door; a short wand clutched in her hand. Right thing, for a weak witch. Two or three powerful spells and it needs to be thrown away or somehow charged. Usually, it was not difficult to fight off such ones, but only ... There were fragments on the floor, and Jon was sure that they were from an amulet, and the smoke was supposed to block other people's magic. And the gift of the inquisitor too. “The Inquisition is not favored in my house.”

A hand slid over her wrist. Dany. She shouldn't have been hurt, even if she inhaled too. Things blocking human magic had no effect on demons. Their gift was different. She could deal with the mistress-witch, and with everyone who tries to interfere. But they can't kill everyone, rumors will go. And Jon doubted that everyone in this castle deserved to die from the clows of a demon. It was worth saving the option as a last resort. He just shook his head in answer to the mute question and again turned his gaze to the hostess.

“Would you like to use one of your prayers on me? Or maybe your sorceress will conjure something?” Why all weak wizards love to mock helpless opponents so much? Or those who seemed helpless to them. Jon was still carrying his sword, and dodging the wand's spells was not difficult. If not for his cousin, Jon might well have tried to kill the witch anyway. But she's not going to hit him with spells. Cousin was a good swordsman, but he does not have the inquisitor's reaction, honed by long training. And Jon won't let him been killed. “Or can't you? What a pity.”

“Stop it, Lady Sybell.” Dany gently pushed him aside and stood forward. That’s right. She will cover them if necessary. “Laughing at a helpless enemy is stupid. If you want to tell us something, do it. If you want to use magic - go ahead. Just keep in mind, we are not going to give up so easily to you.” She was standing her back to him, but Jon could almost see her grin, which for a moment, too short to understand, flashed with elongated fangs.

“Mother. You cannot kill the inquisitor.” Jane took advantage of the situation to move to her mother and now almost hung on her arm. “What if he’s not with a private visit here? We will be killed.”

“Jane, get away.” Lady shook her hand in annoyance, not taking her eyes off them. Maybe she felt that everything was not so simple. “You're bothering me.”

“Let's find out why are they really here, mother.” The youngest girl hid behind her mother's back and, judging by the tremor in her voice, wanted to be away from here. Arya wouldn't shake like that. Even Sansa would have behaved more boldly, although she was not distinguished by endurance.

“We are here at the request of Lord Eddard Stark. He asked us to find out if everything is all right with the sudden love of his eldest son.” Dany was great. The request was personal, and she knew about it, but she said as if Lord Stark spoke directly to the Inquisition. Let them think that right now they have all the power of the Cathedral behind them.

“We can use smoke, mother.” Jane again. What a conscientious daughter Lady Sybell has. They understood what could be behind the attack on the inquisitor. It was strange that their mother did not understand this. And what kind of smoke were they talking about?

“And should give them your groom? “Robb, until then only silently watching the unfolding situation, jerked forward, but Jon managed to catch him by the shoulder. Not worth it, cousin, your anger won't change anything right now. Not for the better for sure.

“Better a groom than a soul to the Creator at twenty.” Jane grabbed her mother's wand. “I don't want to go to the fire.”

“It’s expecting them anyway, doesn’t it?” Dany turned slightly to him, frowned. “What are they counting on?”

Jon tilted his head in response, spread his arms slightly. He couldn't answer even if he had a voice. So far, the plans of the ladies of the Westerling remained a complete secret to him.

“Okay, okay, let there be smoke.” At last, lady Sybell yielded to the as yet incomprehensible requests of her daughters. “But I need time to do it. What are you going to do at this time? Chat nicely?”

“Maybe you will give up?” Jane tilted her head to the side again, flapped her eyelashes, and Jon finally understood what she was doing. She, like Lady Catelyn, possessed a gift of persuasion, probably more powerful, since she seriously expected to use it against the inquisitor. She just was mistaken. The gift worked only on those who have even a drop of confidence in the speaker. Jon doubted any of them trusted the witch.

“I don’t think so.” Dany's voice became sarcastic. “Somehow I don't want to.” He needed to intervene. It seemed that withes are not going to kill them, which meant it was not worth exacerbating and bringing them to a fight. Better he will hand over the ladies involved in forbidden magic to his own, when this was finished, and the Inquisition will take them away, than they will now arrange a massacre here and rumors about the demon will reach the Inquisition. He touched Dany's shoulder, shook his head. They will almost always have time to escape, even if only to the nether world. But it's better dealing with situation without it, of course. “Are you serious? Are you inviting me to surrender? They are not capable of doing anything to us.” He just nodded, shrugged his shoulders. The magician of the Inquisition would have obeyed, but Dany. Does she trust him enough to give up? Demons don't do that, they fight to the end, but now it's better that way. She narrowed her eyes, frowned even more, curled her lips. “I don’t know what your plan is, but if it suddenly doesn’t work…” She didn’t finish, turned away. “Oh well. Let's say we give up.”

The ringing with which Lady Sybell's wand fell to the floor was almost deafening. She did not expect that her daughter would succeed in something, she was going to fight, or maybe she believed that Dany was playing for time, waiting for Jon's voice to return. And now she did not immediately find the words. “Guardians. Take them away ... Take them somewhere upstairs and lock them up more securely.”

The upstairs room turned out to be small with narrow loopholes instead of windows, an uncovered stone floor, and only two modest benches. As soon as the key turned in the keyhole, Dany immediately went to the loopholes.

“Only a hand from me will squeeze through this one.” She said thoughtfully. “And it would be a long flight to the ground. I long to hear what your plan is, Jon.”

Jon curled his lips in a sort of grin in response and threw up his hands. He himself would not mind speaking, but thanks to the spell, for some time he will not be able to squeeze a sound out of his throat.

“Perfect. Well, let's wait.” Dany leaned back against the wall by the loophole, crossed her arms over her chest and expressively moved her fingers through the air. For a moment, it seemed to Jon that there were claws.

“Excuse me. But what happened?” Rob the only one of them sat down on the bench. He should be very dizzy now, residual effects from the love potion. “What happened to me and what happened to Jon?”

“You were under the influence of a love potion, Lord Stark. Officially banned by the Inquisition and listed as what a bonfire is supposed for.” Dany stopped glaring at Jon and seemed to have calmed down a bit. “And Jon temporarily lost his voice after Lady Sybell used a rather rare artifact of complete magic blocking. Also forbidden, by the way.”

\- Is there anything not forbidden here? The cousin's hands were shaking. But this is no longer similar to the effects of the potion.

“Lady Jane's gift of persuasion. Are you okay, Lord Stark?”

“Yes, I just think of I how could forever ...” Rob with a heavy exhalation hid his face in his hands. “What am I going to tell Margaery now. I acted like an idiot, broke off the engagement. She will kill me.”

“Tell the story the way it was. Lady Tyrell will understand.” Dany so easily and quickly slid to Robb that if he saw her now, he would have immediately guessed that she was not human. She lowered herself next to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. “It doesn't depend on people. It happens.”

“Thank you, my lady.” He answered quietly, without looking up. Something pounded in Jon’s heart. He should have been comforting his cousin, not Dany. She was a stranger, she was ... a demon. But she behaved just like human. “I am infinitely grateful to you for what you have done.” He sighed again, raised his head, peered into her face for several moments. “Wait. I know you. You are a dancer. You were at our feast at the end of the longest night. But for what are you here?”

“I have many faces. I am both a dancer, and a magician of the Inquisition, and many, many others. I'm not sure that even my brother and mother know all my faces.” She smiled rather playfully. “But here I am as a magician of the Inquisition. Jon asked for help.”

Brother looked at him, stared for a few moments, then slowly bowed his head. Jon responded in kind. And that's all, words were not needed here. “So, you just fooled my head there at the feast? Together?”

“No. We were not officially introduced to each other then. I had to introduce myself unofficially.”

“And how it was?” Robb smiled faintly.

“Not bad for an Inquisitor.” Dany smiled playfully, looked sideways at Jon. He raised his eyebrows in response in a silent question. “Fine, fine.” Laughing she was much nicer than angry. He, at least, ceased to think that she would kill him instantly. “Not bad for anyone. Maybe even very good.” They laughed softly; Jon smiled. It was funny. It would seem that the situation was not very conducive to such conversations, but they came out the easiest.

There was a rumble behind the door, a thud, a couple of moments of silence, and then a thick purple smoke crept under the door. It must be the one Jane was talking about.

“Well, I will not allow myself to be poisoned with any rubbish.” Dany held up her hand, a spinning fiery needle flashing between her fingers. One short throw and it was already spinning in the center of the room. The smoke stopped for a moment, and then quickly reached for the needle, coiling around it like a skein of wool. And what have we got here?” She came up, studied, but not for long. “This is the fog of obliviousness, only in a strange color. What are we going to do with it? Will we throw it out the window or send it back to the hospitable hosts?”

Jon froze, trying to figure out how to use gestures to explain the thought that had just come to mind, but then the heavy feeling of the hand squeezing his throat disappeared. The voice returned. “No. We'll just burn it. Let them think that it had an effect on us.”

“I'm glad you got your voice back, but what's the point?”

“It is in color, I suppose.” Jon smiled involuntarily. “It's not just the fog of obliviousness, otherwise it would have been blue. This one was not supposed to erase our memories, but to replace them. They are going to let us go. So, let's not interfere with the owners. The fog of obliviousness has a soporific effect. They were probably going to take advantage of this. And I will write about what is happening here as soon as we leave the land of the Westerling’s.”

“What a disgrace.” Dany mumbled longingly, but again obeyed. The fog flared up and burned out, and she was the first to land on the stone floor.

“Thank you, Dany.” For trusting. I swear I will never doubt your intentions again. “Look after Robb, please. So that no one comes up with a brilliant idea to let us go and leave him.”

***

“Today, by your grace, I have lived three times throw humiliation, after which you turn into an empty place among the demons.” Dany said thoughtfully, buttoning up buttons on her jacket. “If they find out at home, then the mother will be disappointed, and the brother will cease to respect. Do you have any answer?”

“We don't usually do that either.” Jon watched her dressing, leaning his shoulder against the wall and not deciding whether to wear a clock or let it lie down for now. “But killing all the people in the castle was not an option either.”

“I wouldn't kill all.” She slightly grimaced, straightened the collar, pulled out a long hairpin from somewhere. “Only those who would get in the way.”

“And how would you justify yourself in front of Robb?”

“Can your brother give you up to the Cathedral?” She raised her eyebrows, pinned her braid to the back of her head, twirled in front of the tiny mirror. “Does it look neatly?”

“Even too much. Nobody will believe you if you say that we weren't just arguing.” Jon shrugged. “Robb won't give me up, never. But he can tell uncle, and I'm not so sure about him.”

“Well, we really just argued.” She chuckled as she sat down on the edge of the neatly made bed. The Westerlings preferred to drive the uncomfortable guests away from their castle, leaving them in a small hotel a few hours away. And Jon was sure that the owner would swear by the Creator that they had come themselves and themselves rented two rooms for three. “There are strange relations in your family. I can't imagine not trusting my brother or my mother.”

“Maybe if I had a mother and a brother, I would also trust them.” The smile turned out, probably, sad. He would like to know her. To share even such secrets. Tell about relationship with a demon. Would Lyanna Stark understand him? Or would she be horrified at how her brother would come if he finds out? “And even if my uncle does not give me up to the Cathedral, the strange deaths of Lady Westerling and part of her servants will become a reason for rumors. The Inquisition will surely arrange for a check. The chances are too great that they will solve the puzzle.”

“Okay, I believe you.” She got up, walked over to him, put her hand on his shoulder. “You are probably right. It's just ... It's just not how I was taught.”

“I understand.” He stroked her palm, smiled. “Sorry. I will never ask you this again. Shall we go down to Robb?”

“Not. I am going home.” She shook her head and sighed. “I’ll go first, so as not to arouse suspicion in your brother, I will tie a horse to someone’s fence, let the people rejoice, and return to the nether worlds.”

“Okay.” For some reason, it was bitter to part like that. As if he would never see her again. Although, this was most likely the case. “So, is it a farewell?”

“A goodbye, more likely.” She smiled playfully, could not help laughing. “It's too interesting with you, Jon, to quit. So, I'll definitely be back, although I don't know when yet.”

“I will not say that I am upset about this.” Jon also smiled and suddenly remembered one thing. “Wait.” He turned the cloak over, peeled back the lining and pulled out the medallion they had taken from the blood mage. “Take it. Sam and I rummaged through half of the library, but we never found anything about it. As if someone had tried it on purpose. I remember about a field with haystacks, but maybe you'll have luck.”


	5. Sides of the coin

The door almost flew into the room with its hinges, or so it seemed to him, at least. The abbess, an old woman, tightly wrapped in a robe like a caterpillar, shuddered and raised her colorless watery eyes at him. “What do you allow yourself, my lord, this is a convent, men are not allowed to enter here?!”

“This rule does not apply to inquisitors.” Jon pushed backwards the door, which was still on its hinges, making the curious nuns, who were cleverly pretending to be frightened, out of sight. “Where is my sister?”

“We are all children of the Creator, brothers and sisters to each other.” The abbess only hinted that he was not behaving like an inquisitor should, but lengthy speculations were the last thing that Jon was going to listen to.

“I'm talking about Sansa Stark. And do not try to pretend that you do not know who it is.”

“Oh, you mean this sister. She is serving her punishment in a cell.”

“Which punishment?” He spoke it with some difficulty. What he learned from the magister only when he returned to the capital of the Cathedral did not imply punishment in any way. “For what?”

“For succumbing to temptation, being not pure enough in heart to reject it.”

“Succumbed to temptation?” It was hard to find right words. Protecting yourself from the charm aura of succubus was possible only by being an inquisitor. Or being completely unable to admire female beauty. Even the most stubborn ascetics rarely could do this. Sansa always appreciated beauty; she had no chance. “It's not a temptation. The charm aura is magic which beyond the control of the common man.”

“The one whose heart is pure and whose soul is turned to the Creator is able to overcome any magic.” The abbess sighed deeply, looked up at Jon, her eyes filled with purity. “Who else, if not the inquisitor, should know this.”

“Oh yes, especially when the soul turns to the creator in her fifties. No succubus or incubus will pay attention to such pure-hearted creature. And those who are a little bit younger should blame themselves, how dare they be more beautiful than an example of heart purity.” Jon bent down to the abbess's table, feeling the strongest desire to attach her with some kind of prayer. And with something else. The symbol of the Creator standing on the table, for example. To remind that it has been almost three decades since the Cathedral recognized the power of prayer as one of the varieties of magic. The most pleasing to the Creator, of course. “Let's do it like this. Either you immediately say where my sister is, and then, if she wants to return home, pretend that there has never been such girl in your world of spiritual purity, or I will ask the magister to check this place. To discover why succubus showed up here. Maybe there was a reason that from all possible monasteries she chose this one. What do you think of this plan, abbess?

“East wing, third cell.” How remarkably pale she became. Perhaps there was nothing of the kind here. Most likely there was nothing. Nothing serious. But if you wish, you can make the most serious sin out of the smallest problem. It is unlikely that the abbess of the modest monastery will be protected by anyone. It is easier for the Supreme Hierarch to give her to Inquisition and not stir up the constantly smoldering enmity between the Inquisition and the priests and monks.

“Thank you.” He grinned, straightened, straightened his cloak. Dany should have seen him now. She definitely would not say that he was an unusual inquisitor. Although, how could it be otherwise with such small-town princes? They take advantage of the fact that nuns and monks rarely have anyone to protect them and do whatever they want. Sometimes even with the best intentions. What great luck it was that Jon’s uncle paid attention to his gift. “It was very pleasant to negotiate with you.”

“I will write a complaint to the Supreme Hierarch.” A half-strangled voice came from behind as Jon grabbed the doorknob.

“As you wish.” He could not hold back a grin, opened the door a little so that everything could be heard in the corridor. “I am sure that the cleansing fire will help your soul, turned to the Creator, to get quickly into his gardens. “Of course, there was nothing to burn abbess for, but the Inquisition did not always need a real reason. Now, of course, this has become a rarity, but in the days of the abbess's youth it was still quite common. She must remember. And understand that inquisitors have the ability to deal with enemies without cleansing fires.

The quick steps of the girls' feet confirmed that the nuns had heard everything, but when Jon opened the door, no one was there. Not surprising. None of the girls wanted to mess with the horrifying inquisitor, and the older ladies prudently remained in their cells. A smile crossed his lips. These are the servants of the Creator. Surely many of them did not like the abbess. Perhaps the threat will make her behave more restrained, it will be necessary to ask the magister to send someone to check. Serving punishment. What a nonsense. Girl fell under the charm of succubus, but found the strength to fight and even kill the creature, and she was punished for this. No one tried to help to heal the wound inflicted by the succubus. The Creator's abode on earth and nothing else this place was.

The door to the third cell in the east wing was locked. Although it was strange to be surprised. A short prayer, the keyhole sparkled. It's easier then folding the heck. Not an obstacle even for a weak magician. Only magicians, even weak ones, have never been found here. Jon pushed the door open. It gave in with a quiet, unpleasant grinding.

The cell was small. A narrow window, almost a loophole, but for a succubus it was easier to seep through it than to enter throw the door, a low washbasin, bare stone walls and a floor. In the corner there was a bed, not made and all covered with dark, almost black blood of a demon. And in another corner, right on the icy stone floor, a girl sat. He didn't even immediately recognize her as his sister. The red curls were tangled and faded, face was all swollen from tears and at the same time somehow thinning, a simple gray dress was torn. She raised her blue eyes as he entered, twitched in a hunted manner, squeezed thin fingers on the hem with such strength that the knuckles whitened. He didn't understand at first. But after a moment he guessed. She saw not her cousin; she saw the inquisitor. Surely the abbess did not confine herself to locking her sister in a cell, she also intimidated her with the Inquisition. For a moment Jon desperately wanted to go back and rip off the abbess's head. Can he ask Dany? She probably knew some demons for this kind of work.

“Sansa. Sansa, it's okay, don't be afraid, it's me.”

“Jon.” She opened her eyes, her lips trembling. “Is it you? What for have you come?”

“To take you home.” After all he’s seen, he would not leave her here, even if she wanted to. If Sansa wants to continue serving the Creator, he will look for a monastery closer to the capital of the Cathedral and with a more reasonable abbess. “I will take you to your father, mother, brothers. Nobody's going to hurt you anymore, I swear.”

“And the Inquisition will not judge me?” She was trembling all over, tears glistened in her eyes. No, tearing off the head of the abbess was clearly not enough. It was even a shame that Dany was the only one demon he knew. Acquaintance with some succubus would be very useful now.

“Of course not, silly. It's not your fault.” He knelt down beside her, held her close, stroked her matted red hair. “On the contrary, you are almost a hero. You killed the demon. Few people can do it.” Sansa didn’t answer, sobbing buried herself in his shoulder, shoulders trembling under his hands. “My poor little sister. Why didn't you write to me, silly one? I would have taken you straight away.”

“I wanted.” Her words could hardly be made out between sobs. “I wanted to write, Jon. To you and to father and mother. But the abbess forbade me to send letters. She knew that my cousin was an inquisitor and was afraid that I would leave this place with your help.”

“Did you want to leave?” The voice faltered. Should he take a sword and kill abbess personally? No, he cannot. He will be judged for this, and the family will be left without his protection. In the current situation, he cannot leave them alone. “Before…”

“It's been a year already.” She choked with tears and for several seconds only sobbed convulsively. “Priest in Winterfell described service to the Creator quite differently. So sublime and beautiful. But here it is completely different.” Long intermittent breath. “It's bad here.”

“I understand. I will take you home, and you will never again be a servant of the Creator. Everything will be fine. Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn will be delighted to see you, Sansa. They miss you, and so do the boys.” Jon stroked his sister's hair again. What a cold floor was here. He was kneeling in warm clothes for only a few minutes, but had already managed to freeze. And how long did she sit in a thin dress? He was afraid that all five days that had passed since the murder of the demon. “Let's get out of here.”

She obediently got up after him and even took a step towards the door, but only one, and then suddenly shuddered, froze and squeezed his hand so that Jon could hardly restrain hissing. “Jon, she’s not coming back, is she?”

“Of course, she is not coming back, Sansa. You killed her.” People did not understand demons, considered them to be something supernatural, almost immortal. Something that only the Creator and his servants can destroy. Usually Jon brushed aside such fears, but Sansa had to understand. To know how to calm herself if she wakes up from a nightmare. He knew what it was. He knew how knowledge helped. “They are mortal, as are we. If she just disappeared, she could return, but this was not the case, was it?”

“No.” How pale she was and her lips were white. How long has she not eaten anything? Did not sleep? Perhaps, on the way to Winterfell, it is worth stopping somewhere for a couple of days. She needs to recuperate. “No, they burned her later. I saw.”

“So, she's dead. The enchanted dagger killed her.” And how she could steal this dagger? After all, the local treasury is surely under a safe lock. Jon mentally pictured himself in such a situation and shuddered. Yes, no locks can stop in such despair. Though it was rather surprising that his tender and fragile sister was able to overcome the strength of the succubus and kill her. Sansa had impressive willpower. Or was that not the case? “Do not be afraid, they do not resurrect.”

“And if someone comes instead of her?” Sansa, who seemed to calm down for a moment, shuddered again. “She said that she has an uncle who should like me.”

“Demons have very vague ideas about family. I doubt that this uncle will remember about her in the next ten years.” He smiled, but inside something clenched. Dany was seriously going to avenge her brother. Could this succubus have a similar relationship with her uncle? It's scary to imagine what a revenge-hungry incubus can do. It looked like he will have to be with Sansa for a while. Make sure that none of the demons want to avenge their relative's death.

“It's good.” Finally, she smiled weakly. “I don’t want that again. Being replaced by someone else.”

“I know, sister, I know.” Jon involuntarily shuddered again, gently pulled her along. There was hardly anything here that she would like to take away. “Let's go home.”

***

The doors flew open with one soft click on them, a smile slid across her lips. What difference with those doors that they put up there, for people. And how decided to limit and describe magic - an assistant in all matters and ordinary life? And it was already an indulgence. Previously, it was generally prohibited. Maybe she should ask Jon what was it like to live without magic. Although he may not understand the question. Inquisitor. Forbidden all magic except for their own and enjoy.

“Hello, Daenerys.” Mom did not turn her head, continued to pensively study something in her magic ball. “You haven't been home for a long time. What did you do?”

“Only for eight days.” She pulled her wings, shook her head, flexed her neck. “I was looking for information on one cute amulet.”

“A lot has changed over these eight days. Did you hear about Reni?”

“I heard.” Dany shrugged her shoulder and went to her mother, sat on the arm of her chair, glanced at the ball, but there was only a silvery fog. “In the details, moreover. Her friends told me.”

“Don’t you feel sorry for your niece?”

“She was running up for a long time.” Dany looked at the ball again. Who was the girl that Reni eventually ran into? No, she felt sorry for her niece, but torturing a person for several months and believing that everything would pass by, and even lying to the whole family ... It was her own fault. Dany was definitely not going to avenge Reni’s stupidity. Brother did not deserve such a daughter at all. Was his child from that sorceress any better? He must be twenty years old now. Still a child. If he were a demon, he would be a fully grown man for a half-breed. “Will you show me her murderer?”

“I'll show you if you want.” Mom passed her hand over the ball, two figures emerged from the thin gray fog - a man and a woman. “I looked at everything that happened. Poor girl, soft and kind, it will be hard for her to live both among them and among us. She's lucky to have a protector.”

“Protector?” The figures became clearer, the girl's bright red hair, the outline of the bed on which she was lying were already visible. The man was sitting next to her.

“Yes, an inquisitor. He frightened the abbess of the monastery, took the girl away. It was a wonderful picture.” A smile crossed mother's lips. “I even used a piece of crystal to listen to his conversation with the nun. They had very expressive faces.”

“Did you find out something interesting?” Dany stared at the ball; the man's features seemed familiar to her. Interesting, very interesting. And he was the inquisitor, also.”

“No, but the conversation was great. For many years I have not seen inquisitors intimidating someone like that. Such nostalgia.” She smiled again, touched the ball with her fingers, from which it shone with a white light for a moment. “Even spending the crystal was not a pity. Although they are already running out. Will you get me more? I might suddenly need to overhear someone's conversation. And I have only one and a half crystals left.”

“Of course. Anyway, I don't seem to learn anything about the amulet.” The ball stopped glowing, the picture became clear and Dany was able to see the face of the girl who killed her niece. But she barely paid attention. She knew too well the man who was sitting by the bed. His black hair, dark gray eyes, figure. There was no scarlet cloak, on top of a white shirt was the body sign of this god of theirs, the eyes looked at the girl with sad tenderness. “Is that Jon, really? And he said that he had no one but me.” Or didn't he? Maybe he didn't say it, but she thought it out herself. She got used to the fact that people usually have only one lover, and he was an inquisitor. How interesting. “It seems he intrigued me even more. And how does he do it?”

"Is that the inquisitor you told me about?" Dany nodded, her mother touched the ball again, bringing the picture closer. “Beautiful boy. Interesting choice, Daenerys. I always knew that you were unusual, all like a brother, but I did not think that you would charm the inquisitor.”

“It is a difficult question who charmed whom.” Dany remembered their conversation in Winterfell and involuntarily chuckled. Oh, how he surprised her then. She expected that he would be afraid of her flirting, or at least be on the alert, and not that he would do the same. And then again. He wasn’t frightened by the claws or the wings too, and again was able to surprise her. Well, in no way did she expect something like this from the inquisitor. “An amazing man. Every time we meet, he finds something to surprise me. And, it seems, he is not looking for it specifically.”

“Then I can only congratulate you.” Mom turned away from the ball, in which still nothing interesting was happening. “The most important thing in a woman's life is to find a man who will constantly surprise her. So that every time you would like to return to him and solve this riddle.” A smile again, but now sad. “Your father was like that. How many years I have been solving it, but I haven’t figured it out. Even with his death, he was able to surprise me, although, it would seem, why should I be surprised.”

“Do you think Jon is anything like Dad?” Dany frowned, but did not have time to continue the thought, even in her head. The doors swung open again.

“Mom, Dany, good day.” It was said in such a voice that it immediately became clear that it was any day, but not a good one. Dany turned, looked at the face of her older brother and realized that about Reni, if he still doesn't know, she won't tell. He loved his niece, took her with him everywhere, taught her to live widely and brightly. Only Viserys never allowed himself to force humans or demons into intimacy. Apparently, he had failed to teach Reni this. “What are you doing here?”

“Discussing Dany's lover.” Mom shook her head, frowned for a moment, waved her hand to her brother. It will not hurt him to distract from thoughts, whatever they may be, and what is better for that than discussion over his sister.

“That inquisitor?” Viserys really perked up, walked over, looked at Jon with curiosity for a couple of minutes. “Nice one. You are picky, sister, you always choose the best.”

“Well, at least someone in this family has to be picky.” Dany responded as usual. Her brother did not try to offend her. They just talked like that since she began to speak.

“It deprives you of much of the pleasure.” Brother chuckled straightened up, with a crooked smile patted her on the shoulder. “You, Dany, dishonor the proud name of the demon. You sleep with a person for whom you are not the only lover, but he is for you. How it can be called?”

“What a disgrace.” If brother knew how she and Jon saved his brother, he would not joke like that. He would say that it is a shame in all seriousness. “Let's urgently find me some lover or better two, so that there will definitely be no shame. Hmm, I think your Arianna’s brother won't refuse me, so it's only up to the third one. Will you be for him?”

“I'm ready for anything for you. Only, I'm afraid your inquisitor will not appreciate it. People are very nervous when you tell them that you are sleeping with your sister. Well, or with your brother in your case.” Dany, almost not listening to her brother, looked sideways at her mother. She was smiling. She was able to distract Viserys. However, she always could. Any of them, anyone she met, she could understand easily. If only Dany could. Her fire could not be compared with the gift of her mother, so is she worthy one day to take her place? “So, we’ll have to look for someone else. But I agree to be fourth.” A moment of silence. “What is it?”

“What?” Dany looked down as her brother and found that she was twirling the medallion in her hands. And when did she manage to get it? “Oh, this one. Jon gave it away. He asked to find out whose sign is on it. We took him off a blood mage, we thought he might be a cultist.”

“A cultist.” Viserys held out his hand, received the medallion, and looked at it for just a few moments. “You thought right. This is a sign of the Raven cult, Rhaegar told me horror stories when I was little. And shoved me a sign. He seemed to be collecting some information about this cult.”

“Which one?” Was it really that simple? And she, like a fool, was collecting information on cults, looking for something, but all she needed was…

“I do not know.” Only a shrug in response. “I was a child. Nobody told me anything except horror stories.”

It was not easy. Dany looked hopefully at her mother, but she just shook her head. “No, Dany, I'm sorry. Rey explored this cult with your father. All I knew that these demons and their followers were doing things that could turn inside out both our world and the human world. If this cult reappeared…” Mom sighed heavily. “You have to find out. And if only Ray could tell about it… Dany, I give permission.”


End file.
